rw 

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AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY 
UPWARD 


-As  the  Sparks  Fly  Upward 

Job  V:  6,  7. 


At  first  he  might  have  thought  her  a  vision,  but  that  her 
red  lips  parted,  and  she  breathed  his  name 

[Page  372] 


AS  THE  SPARKS 
FLY  UPWARD 


BY 


CYRUS  TOWNSEND  BRADY 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  ISLAND  OF  REGENERATION," 
44  THE  SOUTHERNERS,"  ETC.,  ETC. 


WITH  FOUR  ILLUSTRATIONS 
BY  J.  N.  MARCHAND 


CHICAGO 

A.  C.  McCLURG  &  CO. 
1911 


Copyright 

A.  C.  McCLURG  &  CO. 
1911 

Published  October.    1911 
Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London,  England 


W.  3>.  25nll  printing  fflompang 


PS 


Ao 


To 
JAMES  CARLETON  YOUNG 

Who,  like  Maecenas  of  old,  has  found  his  chiefest  pleasure 
in  world-wide  service  to  literature  and  in  generous 

friendship  to  the  makers  thereof, 

this  author,  bound  to  him  by  warm  affection  and  high 
esteem,  dedicates  this  book 


PREFACE 

I  MAY  as  well  admit  the  obvious:  I  am  a 
confirmed  Pref  aceteer,  or,  since  I  am  coining 
a  word,  shall  I  say  Prefateer?  —  one  who  writes 
prefaces.  I  think  it  can  not  be  gainsaid  that  I 
am  guilty  of  more  prefaces  —  and  books !  —  than 
any  other  living  author.  And  the  end  is  not  yet  1 
Having  done  something,  I  can  not  resist  the 
temptation  to  talk  about  it — as  the  hen  cackles 
when  she  lays  an  egg.  Publishers,  critics,  pos 
sibly  readers  also,  object  to  the  preface;  but  most 
illogically,  I  think.  They  say  nobody  reads  a 
preface  nowadays.  Granted  for  the  sake  of  the 
argument !  But  if  so,  what  harm  can  result  from 
something  that  nobody  reads?  Well,  it  pleases 
me  to  be  prefatory,  so  here  goes. 

This,  gentle  reader  —  book  following,  I  mean, 
not  preface  present  —  is  neither  a  sea  story,  nor 
an  adventure  tale,  nor  a  romance  of  war,  civil 
or  uncivil.  Although  in  the  nature  of  things 
nearly  every  chapter  bristles  with  strange,  un- 

vii 


PREFACE 

usual,  and  exciting  incidents,  the  main  interest 
is  not  objectively  in  them  but  rather  subjectively 
in  the  five  persons  about  whom  the  action  re 
volves.  It  is  a  problem  novel,  at  least  it  so 
presents  itself  to  me.  And  the  problem,  which 
is  not  solved,  may  be  stated  in  the  terms  of  an 
ancient  aphorism  perhaps  more  honored  in  the 
breach  than  in  the  observance :  —  "  What 's  sauce 
for  the  goose  is  sauce  for  the  gander"  Is  it  so, 
I  wonder?  The  readers  may  decide  that  for 
themselves. 

Of  course  the  goose  in  this  tale  did  not  really 
—  but  I  must  restrain  myself  in  some  degree 
and  not  spoil  the  story  by  too  premature  a  revela 
tion.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  the  gander  thought 
so,  and  the  question  was  therefore  by  no  means 
an  academic  one  for  him. 

I  meant  to  put  goose  and  gander  on  an  abso 
lute  parity  when  I  started  out,  but  either  my 
courage  failed  me  or  my  affections  would  not 
permit.  A  poor  author  can  not  always  do  as 
he  would  with  his  characters,  any  more  than  a 
poor  parent  can  with  his  children. 

It  has  been  charged  against  me  that  I  have 
never  presented  a  real  thorough-going  villain  to 

viii 


PREFACE 

the  world,  except  Sir  Henry  Morgan,  Buccaneer. 
And  the  charge  is  true.  I  started  to  make  Lang- 
ford  completely  and  persistently  bad  in  "  The 
Island  of  Regeneration,"  but  he  seized  his  chance 
to  redeem  himself,  and  of  his  own  will  became 
the  most  engaging  character  in  the  book.  In  the 
same  way  I  cherished  evil  intentions  toward  the 
fair  fame  of  Barmore  in  "  The  Better  Man." 
He  was  designed  for  a  worldly  weakling,  but, 
as  before,  his  chance  came  in  spite  of  poor  me; 
he  seized  it,  rose  to  heights  which  jeopardized 
the  whilom  superiority  of  Stebbing  —  and  there 
you  are ! 

Also  I  know  I  shall  be  faulted  for  the  sum 
mary  disposition  of  one  of  the  characters  in  the 
book.  But  what  else  could  I  do  with  her?  Alas, 
the  mental  crimes  forced  upon  an  elderly  author 
of  the  vocation  priestly  by  the  stern  necessities 
of  the  case!  But  I  have  warrant  for  my  action. 
Shakespeare  had  to  dispose  of  Mercutio  in  the 
middle  of  the  play  because  he  was  too  prone  to 
occupy  the  centre  of  the  stage  to  the  exclusion 
of  Romeo,  to  whom  the  place  rightfully  belonged. 
''Sweet  Will,"  I  thank  thee  for  that  example! 

Therefore  with  but  two  further  remarks  I  tear 

ix 


PREFACE 

myself  away.  Please  do  not  identify  mine  with 
the  opinions  of  any  of  my  characters.  I'm 
responsible  for  them  all,  remember!  We  may 
try  as  we  can  to  look  at  the  matter  with  the  eyes 
of  God;  but  the  eye  of  our  present  vision  is  the 
eye  of  man,  and  those  are  very  different  eyes, 
indeed.  My  sense  of  justice  says  one  thing,  my 
weak  humanity  says  another.  And  I  can  not  say 
what  others  should  have  done  under  such  circum 
stances;  I  can  only  point  out  what  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland  did. 

Do  you  know,  I  did  not  think  him  very  ad 
mirable  at  first ;  but  as  his  career  unfolded  before 
me,  I  decided  to  award  him  the  hero's  palm  after 
all.  Does  he  deserve  it  in  your  opinion,  dear 
reader?  Farewell. 

CYRUS  TOWNSEND  BEADY. 
ST.  GEORGE'S  RECTORY, 

KANSAS  CITY,  MISSOURI, 
September,  1911, 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


BOOK  I 

THE  SPORT  OF  FORTUNE 

CHAPTER  I  PAGE 

Giving  Account  of  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland,  Master 
Mariner  and  Gentleman,  and  Julia,  his  Fair  Young 
Wife 17 

CHAPTER  II 
Wherein  is  Set  Forth  how  Complete  a  Change  a  Few 

Hours  may  Effect  in  Human  Fortunes     .     .     .     .     33 

CHAPTER  III 
Discloses  Man,   Proud  Man,  Fighting  Desperately  for 

Life,  which  he  Thought  Held  Nothing  for  Him     .     46 

BOOK  II 

THE  ISLAND  OF  INNOCENCE 

CHAPTER  IV 
Which    Shows   how  the    Poor,  Forlorn  Castaway  was 

Watched  in  the  Night 61 

CHAPTER  V 
Wherein  the  Excited   Pursuer    Discovers   the   Elusive 

Spirit  of  the  Island 72 

CHAPTER  VI 
In  Which  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland   Finds    Himself 

Face  to  Face  with  a  Problem 84- 

CHAPTER  VII 
Showing  how  Questions   of  Propriety  would  Obtrude 

Themselves  even  in  Eden 95 

BOOK  III 

A  GREAT  PURPOSE 

CHAPTER  VIII 
In  Which  the  Reader  Hears  a  Piteous  Call  across  the 

Seas 110 

xi 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  IX  PAGE 

How  One  Comes  Back  through  the  Golden  Gate  Alone  118 

CHAPTER  X 
Wherein  the  Long  Effort  Brings  Success  to  One,  Failure 

to  the  Other 133 

BOOK  IV 
THE  PASSING  OF  FELICITY 

CHAPTER  XI 
Wherein  Lessons  are  Taught  and  Learned  that  are  not 

in  the  Text-book        147 

CHAPTER  XII 
How  the  Castaway  was  Threatened  with  a  Great  Loss  159 

CHAPTER  XIII 
In  Which  Little  Felicity  at  Last  Realizes  Her  Fondest 

Desire 169 

CHAPTER  XIV 
Showing  Ties  that  Bound,  not  Seen  from  Golden  Gate 

or  Enchanted  Island 180 

CHAPTER  XV 
How  the  World  at  Last  Came,  and  What  it  Offered  to 

Those  by  Whom  and  to  Whom  it  Came        •     •     -194 


CHAPTER  XVI 
How  Little  Felicity  was  Perforce  Left  Behind    •     •     •   218 

CHAPTER  XVII 
Wherein  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  Confesses  All  and 

Seeks  Forgiveness 229 

CHAPTER  XVIII 
Wherein  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  Awaits  Anxiously 

a  Story  He  Fears  to  Hear 243 

xii 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  XIX  PAGE 

How  Julia  Cleveland  Raised  a  Storm   She  could  not 

Quell 254 

CHAPTER  XX 
Wherein  the  Worldly  Wisdom  of  the  Old  Boatswain  is 

Heard  to  Great  Advantage 267 

CHAPTER  XXI 
Showing  Captain  Cleveland  Arranging   Future,  Which 

is  Nevertheless  in  the  Hands  of  God       ....   286 

CHAPTER  XXII 
How  the  World  Moved  On,  and  What  Happened  while 

They  were  Homeward  Bound 303 

BOOK  VI 

FIGHTING  WITHIN,  WITHOUT 

CHAPTER  XXIII 
Showing  What   Happened  at  the  End  of  the  Fourth 

Year  of  Fighting 315 

CHAPTER  XXIV 
Wherein  Two  Enemies  at  Last  Meet  Face  to  Face  on 

the  Field 327 

CHAPTER  XXV 
Wherein  Stephen  Cleveland  also  Finds  Out  Vengeance 

is  not  His,  but  Another's 336 

BOOK  VII 

FORGIVENESS  DIVINE 

CHAPTER  XXVI 
How  Julia  Cleveland  Planned  for  Happiness,  and  the 

Great  Ally  She  Made 357 

CHAPTER  XXVII 
Wherein  the  Reader  Finds  at  Last  that  All  is  Well       •   373 


Xlll 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 
At  first  he  might  have  thought  her  a  vision,  but  that  her 

red  lips  parted,  and  she  breathed  his  name     Frontispiece 

The  being  before  him  seemed  an  airy  fantasy,  a  part  of 
the  witchery  of  woodland,  a  creature  of  the  gentle 
breeze 82 

"  No,"  said  the  woman,  '   you  have  spoken,  and  there 

is  that  between  us  which  will  forever  keep  us  apart  "   140 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  knelt  down  by  the  side  of 
the  man  he  hated.  "  Ellison,"  he  said  in  piercing 
whisper,  "  what  about  my  wife  ?" 348 


BOOK  I 
THE  SPORT  OF  FORTUNE 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY 
UPWARD 

CHAPTER  I 

GIVING    ACCOUNT    OF    CAPTAIN    STEPHEN    CLEVE 
LAND,  MASTER  MARINER  AND   GENTLEMAN, 
AND  JULIA,   HIS  FAIR  YOUNG  WIFE 

THE  Master  of  the  Swiftsure,  ignorant  of 
the  acute  observations  that  wise  Solon 
addressed  to  another  potentate  almost  as  supreme 
in  his  domain  as  a  lord  of  the  sea  on  his  quarter 
deck,  counted  himself  a  happy  man,  although 
he  was  yet  young  and  very  much  alive.  The  two 
objects  upon  which  his  happiness  rested,  so  he 
thought,  as  securely  as  the  foundations  of  the 
deep  are  laid  in  the  bars  of  the  sea  —  as  Sailor 
Jonah  would  phrase  it  —  were  both  at  this  mo 
ment  before  his  vision.  These  two  things,  if  I 
may  by  that  utterly  insufficient  yet  greatly  over 
worked  word  describe  entity  and  personality, 

[17] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

were,  proverbially  at  least,  the  most  fickle, 
changeable,  uncertain,  inconstant,  independent 
variables  in  creation!  To  avoid  further  specula 
tion  I  disclose  them  in  five  words  —  a  woman  and 
a  ship! 

In  none  of  the  popular  imaginations,  or  no 
tions,  concerning  the  nature  of  women  and  ships 
referred  to  above  did  the  Master  of  the  Swiftsure 
share.  He  was  as  confident  of  the  absolute 
devotion  and  affection  of  Julia,  his  wife,  as  he 
was  of  the  dependability  of  the  great  American 
tea  clipper,  his  ship. 

The  Swiftsure,  as  the  first  half  of  her  name 
implies,  was  built  for  speed.  No  vessel  afloat 
boasted  loftier  spars,  and  over  no  other  ship  was 
more  widely  spread  the  snowy  canvas,  consider 
ing,  of  course,  her  length  and  beam  and  tonnage. 
And  withal,  as  her  skipper  would  have  phrased 
it,  "  She  was  as  safe  and  steady  as  a  church  "  — 
not  but  that  some  churches  are  loose  enough  and 
uncertain  on  occasion,  I  find;  but  let  the 
comparison  stand.  So  the  last  half  of  her  name 
is  justified. 

Everything  about  the  vessel,  that  she  might 
be  sure  as  well  as  swift,  was  of  the  best,  includ- 

[18] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

ing  the  young  captain  and  his  younger  wife. 
Even  a  landsman  would  have  seen  the  necessity 
for  absolute  perfection  of  equipment,  as  well  as 
exquisite  proportion  in  adjustment  and  consum 
mate  ability  in  handling,  for  the  Yankee  clippers 
were  driven  as  no  ships  before  or  after  that  sailed 
the  Seven  Seas. 

On  this  very  voyage  home  from  Canton  the 
Swiftsure  (and  it  was  her  maiden  cruise)  had 
passed  by  British  and  other  barks,  staggering 
along  with  two  reefs  in  their  tops'ls,  while  she 
herself  proudly  sported  to'gallant  stun's'ls. 
Blow  high,  blow  low,  the  Yankee  skipper 
cracked  on.  It  was  his  boast  not  to  start  a 
sheet  or  halyard  after  he  struck  the  steady-going 
trades,  so  long  as  he  could  carry  the  wind,  or, 
more  accurately,  so  long  as  the  wind  would  carry 
him  on  his  course.  If  one  of  these  bold  seamen 
could  round  Cape  Horn  with  everything  set, 
aloft  and  alow,  he  counted  himself  a  happy  man. 

I  fear  me  I  have  let  my  love  for  the  ship  run 
away  with  me,  a  thing  Captain  Stephen  Cleve 
land  had  no  intention  of  allowing  on  this  or  any 
other  cruise,  and  I  turn  away  from  this  sea 
technicality — to  the  relief  of  the  readers  fern- 

[19] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

inine  and  masculine  in  these  piping  days  of  the 
iron  pot  afloat — to  that  to  which  mere  male 
humanity  naturally  turns  with  relief  at  almost 
any  time,  the  woman. 

A  fair  picture  she  made  that  spring  afternoon 
(the  bell  forward  had  long  since  struck  two, 
indicating  that  over  an  hour  had  passed  of  the 
first  dog-watch),  and  a  fine  contrast  she  pre 
sented  to  her  husband.  In  but  one  thing  was 
there  a  resemblance  between  them.  They  were 
both  splendidly  tall,  a  thing  unusual  enough  in 
the  women  of  those  days  to  be  particularly  men 
tioned,  the  sex  apparently  not  having  discovered 
in  the  fifties  of  the  last  century  whatever  Pro 
crustean  bed  serves  so  gracefully  to  elongate 
them  to-day.  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  stood 
six  feet  and  a  trifle  more  in  his  shoes  on  his  own 
quarter-deck,  the  woman's  head  coming  a  little 
above  his  shoulder,  on  which  in  sweeter  moments 
it  had  often  lain.  Otherwise  their  contrarieties 
were  openly  apparent. 

This  undoubted  oppositeness  made  them  the 
more  splendidly  mated  a  pair.  The  tropic  sun 
and  the  blustering  winds  of  his  many  voyagings 
had  but  deepened  and  intensified  the  man's 

[20] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

darker  skin  and  blacker  hair;  they  seemed,  if 
possible,  to  throw  more  light  and  color  upon  the 
glory  of  her  locks  and  the  beauty  of  her  cheek. 
They  say  that  blue  eyes  bespeak  racial  lordship 
and  individual  mastery,  yet  there  was  enough 
sparkling  courage  and  splendid  dominance  in  the 
blackness  of  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland's  iris 
to  give  the  lie,  in  his  case  at  least,  to  the  prevalent 
idea.  Julia  Cleveland's  eyes  were  gray  at  most 
times,  although  on  occasion  they  showed  the 
limpid  clearness  and  blue  unfathomable  deeps 
of  the  unfretted  skies  of  a  noonday  in  spring 
time. 

Her  eyes  were  gray  at  that  very  moment,  as 
she  stood  looking  forward  from  white  deck  to 
taut  rope,  lofty  spar,  broad  yardarm,  and 
gleaming  canvas.  She  balanced  herself  with  no 
less  ease  than  did  her  husband  to  the  uneasy  roll 
and  pitch  of  the  ship's  tremendous  drive  under 
the  pressure  of  the  half-gale  that  was  blowing. 
She  had  a  woman's  instinct  for  the  beautiful, 
and  a  sailor's  daughter's  and  a  sailor's  wife's 
appreciation  of  her  only  rival  in  grace  and 
charm,  a  ship.  Her  eyes  softened  into  a 
heavenly  blueness  when  a  sudden  heel  of  the 

[21] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

vessel  inclined  her  gently  against  her  husband 
and  her  looks  sought  his.  Even  his  bolder, 
fiercer  glance  changed  at  the  sweet  and  unex 
pected  contact;  tenderness  filmed  fire  for  a 
moment,  but  beneath  that  veil  flashed  passions 
warm,  not  to  say  white-hot,  if  of  another 
fashion. 

Life  wedded  had  not  yet  exhausted  its  possi 
bilities  for  these  two.  Its  mysteries  had  not  yet 
been  solved.  The  usual  and  the  inevitable  had 
not  brought  into  view  the  commonplace  for  these 
two  present  favored  children  of  fortune,  soon  to 
become  the  wanton  sport  of  wildest  and  most 
malign  chance. 

The  bitter  cynic  or  the  worldly  wise  philos 
opher,  viewing  the  happiness  of  the  newly 
wedded  pair  on  the  Swiftsure  (for  her  first 
cruise  was  also  their  first  voyage),  might  have 
sneeringly  observed  that  happiness  founded  upon 
a  ship  and  eke  a  woman  was  by  no  means 
assured ;  the  one  the  sport  of  the  passionate  seas, 
the  other  the  plaything  of  the  impulsive  heart, 
both  synonyms  for  inconstancy.  But  there  was 
neither  cynic  nor  philosopher  aboard.  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland  might  have  laughed  away 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

some  of  the  arguments  of  these  unpleasant  per 
sonages,  if  they  had  been  made  to  him,  by  point 
ing  out  that  he  was  there  to  command  the  ship 
and  —  wait,  O  modern  suffragette  1  In  defer 
ence  to  you,  I  change  the  verb,  and  write  —  to 
love,  if  not  command  the  woman. 

Like  my  ship  and  her  precious  freightage, 
human  and  otherwise,  a  thousand  leagues  from 
point  of  departure,  and  five  times  that  from 
haven  of  rest,  how  shall  I  come  back  to  earth 
again?  Facts  preliminary,  tedious  perhaps,  like 
eating  and  drinking  and  the  prosaic  but  neces 
sary  functions  of  life,  must  skeletonize  the  body 
of  romance  before  we  can  admire  its  outward 
beauty;  as  the  fretted,  worm-built  coral  rises 
slowly  in  the  sea  out  of  the  depths  to  afford  a 
bony  foundation  for  fresh  verdure  and  the  nod 
ding  palm  tree. 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland,  like  his  clipper, 
the  Swiftsure,  was  of  Salem.  His  father  and 
mother  had  been  lost  at  sea.  Their  property, 
embarked  in  their  own  ship,  had  gone  down  with 
them.  Little  Stephen,  left  at  home  for  a  voy 
age  or  two  for  further  schooling  than  could  be 
given  him  on  shipboard,  had  thus  been  bereft 

[23] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

of  all  by  one  stroke  of  misfortune.  Call  of 
the  deep  rang  imperative  in  his  ears.  At  twelve 
he  shipped  as  cabin  boy;  at  nineteen  he  had  his 
first  command,  a  brig  trading  to  the  Caribbean; 
at  twenty-six  he  was  master  and  part  owner  of 
one  of  the  finest  of  the  tea  clippers.  This  was 
a  rapid  but  not  an  unusual  career. 

Like  himself,  Julia,  born  Pellew,  was  an 
orphan.  Her  father,  ship-master  too,  had  paid 
with  his  life  the  exacting  toll  of  the  rapacious 
ocean,  while  she  was  an  infant  in  arms.  A  year 
before  Julia's  marriage  her  mother,  from  the 
quiet  harbor  of  the  old  town,  had  slipped  her 
cable,  as  a  sailor  would  say,  and  gone  out  on  the 
wide  sea,  the  illimitable  ocean  which  washes  every 
shore,  in  a  last  cruise  to  join  the  husband  whose 
memory  she  had  followed  with  anxious  and  warm 
hearted  devotion  for  many  years  of  widowhood. 
A  long  period  of  mourning  hers  had  been,  unre 
lieved  save  by  the  splendid  promise  of  her  glorious 
daughter.  She  was  the  more  willing  to  go,  in 
that  before  she  took  her  last  departure,  she 
realized  that  Julia  would  be  taken  care  of  so 
long  as  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  could  lift  his 
arm  or  speak  his  word. 

[24] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

Neither  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  nor  Julia 
Pellew  had  ever  loved  any  one  but  the  other. 
They  had  known  each  other  from  childhood;  but 
no  period  of  long  association  had  diminished 
surprise  and  delight  in  possession,  for  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland  was  at  home  infrequently, 
and  for  but  few  days.  There  had  been  no  satiety 
born  of  familiarity  in  their  intercourse.  Their 
young  hands  still  met  with  the  clasp  of  unwonted 
use  and  daintier  touch. 

The  compass  needle  sometimes  varied;  the 
North  Star  was  not  the  only  object  of  its  point 
ing.  Stephen  Cleveland  was  far  truer  to  the 
pole  of  his  affections.  Wheresoever  he  voyaged, 
whomsoever  he  met,  whatsoever  he  did,  there  was 
for  him  but  one  face  and  figure,  but  one  splendid 
form,  of  glorious  womanhood.  For  her  he  shut 
his  ears  and  closed  his  eyes  to  various  siren  calls. 
For  her,  Ulysses-like,  he  bound  himself  to  the 
mast  of  hard  work,  sailing  unharmed  'twixt 
Scylla  and  Charybdis.  For  her  he  labored  early 
and  late,  until  his  twenty-sixth  year  found  him, 
with  deservedly  high  reputation  in  his  profession 
and  much  honor  among  men  and  women,  in 
command  of  the  Swiftsure. 

[25] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

On  her  part,  Julia  was  not  less  constant  and 
devoted  to  him  than  the  far-voyaging  lord  of 
her  young  affection  to  her.  She  was  too  healthy 
and  too  happy  to  make  a  recluse  of  herself  at 
home  while  he  was  away;  and  such,  indeed,  was 
not  her  lover's  wish.  In  all  the  gayeties  of  her 
people  and  friends  she  bore  a  part,  but  it  was 
a  part  of  which  the  most  jealous  and  exacting 
sweetheart  would  have  approved.  Thus  they 
confronted  each  other  at  the  end  of  each  voyage, 
each  with  unblemished  record,  each  with  perfect 
trust,  and  each  with  growing  passion.  They 
thought  of  each  other  during  their  protracted 
separations  with  increasing  longing,  but  with  the 
absolute  tranquillity  of  profound  assurance  of  a 
devotion  they  equally  shared,  of  the  one  to  the 
other. 

The  death  of  Julia's  mother,  and  her  conse 
quent  lonely  state,  hastened  their  marriage  day. 
The  splendid  result  of  the  voyage  that  was  com 
pleted  after  the  good  woman  had  gone  to  her 
rest,  the  reward  of  his  success  in  the  great  new 
ship  that  was  to  be  his  own  charge,  made  it  easy 
for  them  to  arrive  at  this  decision.  They  were 
married  on  the  deck  of  the  Swiftsure,  she  con- 

[26] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

senting  to  indulge  his  fancy,  with  friends  aft 
and  crew  forward  looking  on  approvingly.  The 
very  day  of  their  wedding,  after  the  wedding 
breakfast  which  had  been  served  alike  in  cabin 
and  forecastle,  and  after  the  departure  of  the 
last  boatload  of  cheerful  guests,  the  tide  serving, 
the  anchor  was  weighed,  and  the  ship,  unmoored, 
started  upon  her  voyage. 

Never  before,  thought  Captain  Stephen  Cleve 
land,  had  there  been  such  a  cruise.  In  that  fond 
illusion,  which  she  herself  created,  Julia  Pellew, 
now  Julia  Cleveland,  fully  shared.  Behind  the 
curtains  of  their  happiness,  which  even  this  rash 
intruding  author  would  fain  not  draw,  let  them 
for  the  voyage  remain  undisturbed  while  youth 
and  joy  linger  with  them.  They  were  young, 
they  were  alone,  the  wide  sea  was  before  them, 
the  great  ship  was  their  own.  Lacked  they  any 
thing  for  happiness,  the  God  of  Good  Fortune 
seemed  ignorant  of  what  it  was,  else  he  would 
have  bestowed  it  upon  them. 

Their  first  port  of  destination  was  San  Fran 
cisco.  Gold  colored  the  horizon  of  men's  hopes 
there.  The  necessities  of  life,  which  sold  for  a 
song  on  the  Eastern  seaboard,  brought  small 

[27] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

fortunes  on  the  Pacific  shore.  There  were  no 
railroads  spanning  the  continent  then.  The  west 
ward  course  of  empire  prophesied  by  the  good 
bishop  had  to  take  its  way  around  Cape  Horn, 
or  across  the  Isthmus  to  Balboa's  Sea  if  it  was 
in  a  great  hurry. 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  might  have  much 
enriched  himself  and  his  owners  if  he  had  car 
ried  passengers  to  California,  but  he  had  stipu 
lated,  when  he  was  offered  the  command,  that 
he  and  his  wife  should  be  alone  on  that  voyage 
—  one  woman  indeed  was  quite  enough  to  fill 
the  ship  for  him.  Evidently  the  supercargo  and 
the  mates  were  wise  enough  to  leave  the  young 
couple  to  themselves  as  much  as  possible. 

Temptations  to  quick  and  easy  fortunes  irre 
sistibly  assailed  the  men  of  the  Swiftsure  so 
soon  as  she  entered  the  well-named  Golden  Gate ; 
and  indeed,  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland,  laughing 
at  the  reversal  of  ordinary  practice,  invested  an 
"  adventure  "  part  of  the  profits  of  the  voyage, 
with  a  sailor  friend,  one  Hampton  Ellison  of 
North  Carolina  (mark  that  name,  dear  reader), 
who  having  nothing  but  good  health  and  invin 
cible  energy,  wanted  to  go  prospecting  if  some 

[28] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

one  would  furnish  the  wherewithal  for  half  the 
profits  that  might  accrue.  Bread  that,  not  cast 
upon  the  waters  but  upon  the  shore,  and  destined, 
even  though  upon  the  immutable  element,  to  come 
back  again  after  many  days  in  strange  ways,  wel 
come  and  unwelcome,  as  the  reader  who  per 
severes  shall  see. 

Most  of  the  crew,  weak  to  resist  the  possibility 
of  sudden  riches,  deserted  the  ship  and  captain. 
The  days  were  beginning  to  pass  when  the  crew 
and  officers  in  a  Yankee  ship  made  one  family. 
The  Swiftsure  was  a  great  ship,  and  required 
many  men.  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  was 
forced  to  fill  out  his  complement  with  such  as  he 
could  pick  up.  Decidedly  a  sorry  lot,  he  thought, 
as  he  mustered  them,  yet  he  felt  confident  enough 
of  controlling  them.  Fellows  they  were  for  the 
most  part  who  had  given  up  honest  labor  and 
were  perhaps  fugitives  from  justice,  —  the  refuse, 
so  called,  of  the  frontier. 

Clearing  at  last  for  the  Orient,  with  a  stop  at 
Honolulu,  he  so  timed  his  departure,  he  so  drove 
his  ship,  that  he  arrived  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Pacific  at  the  opportune  moment  when  the  first 
harvest  of  the  tea  crop  was  ready  for  shipping. 

[29] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  gathered  the  cream 
of  it  into  his  capacious  hold,  with  other  cases  and 
packages  of  the  light,  perishable,  yet  attractive 
wares  of  China.  Then,  leaving  more  of  his 
vagrom  crew  in  the  purlieus  of  Canton,  whose 
places  perforce  were  supplied  by  Asiatics  and 
beachcombers,  the  Swiftsure  got  under  way  for 
the  long  run  southward,  the  wild  sweep  about 
the  stormy  cape,  and  the  great  reach  northward 
along  the  Atlantic  shore  of  both  Americas  to 
home  and  the  market.  Great  the  reward  and 
high  the  honor  that  awaited  the  first  arrival. 

Fortune  still  bestowed  her  favors  with  a  lavish 
hand.  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  was  a  stu 
dent,  a  well  educated  man,  a  thorough  gentle 
man —  a  merchant  sailor  of  the  past  you  say, 
incredulously,  and  therein  I  unhesitatingly  agree 
—  but  I  doubt  if  he  had  ever  read  or  pondered 
upon  the  ancient  and  mystic  phrase,  "  Whom  the 
gods  destroy  they  first  make  mad/'  The  intoxi 
cating  madness  of  joy  and  success  sparkled  in 
Captain  Stephen  Cleveland's  eyes,  throbbed  in 
his  veins,  bubbled  in  his  heart;  and  in  all  this 
Julia,  his  young  wife,  shared. 

They  stood  abaft  the  wheel  that  day.  None 
[30] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

happened  to  be  looking  their  way.  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland,  glancing  forward,  noted  that 
fact.  He  looked  critically  over  the  side  at  the 
bright  water  rushing  swiftly  by;  another  second, 
and  his  eye  ranged  across  the  short  wake  in  the 
boiling  seas.  The  ship  was  making  more  than 
fifteen  knots,  he  judged.  In  sheer  happiness 
and  satisfaction  he  thrust  his  arm  around  the 
trim  waist  of  the  woman  by  his  side.  He  was 
not  a  demonstrative  man,  but  then  and  there  he 
kissed  her  on  the  cheek,  deepening  beauty's 
colors  already  flying  there.  He  said  as  he  did  so : 

"My  dear," — that  was  a  simple  appellation, 
but  it  meant  a  great  deal  from  him  whose  word 
was  usually  "  Julia,"  —  "  if  the  wind  holds  and 
nothing  happens,  we  shall  be  at  home  in  less 
then  twelve  weeks  from  Canton — a  record 
passage  for  me,  and  fortune  for  you!" 

Oh,  the  potency  that  lies  hid  beneath  that 
petty  conjunction!  If  nothing  happens,  sun 
and  light  to-morrow.  If  nothing  happens,  we 
shall  sleep  sweet  to-night.  If  nothing  happens, 
success  and  happiness  will  attend  our  efforts. 
If  — if! 

Even  as  the  wife,  responsive  to  his  caress, 
[31] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

nestled  a  little  closer  and  smiled  more  sweetly 
to  him,  there  burst  from  the  lips  of  a  man  for 
ward  a  cry,  the  most  terrifying  that  may  be 
voiced  or  heard  by  human  beings  on  the  deck  of 
a  ship  in  the  midst  of  the  wide  and  lonely  sea: 
"Fire!" 


[32] 


CHAPTER  II 

WHEREIN  IS  SET  FORTH  HOW  COMPLETE  A  CHANGE 

A    FEW    HOURS    MAY    EFFECT    IN 

HUMAN   FORTUNES 

all  the  catastrophes  that  may  menace 
man,  the  two  most  appalling  are  the 
burning  of  a  ship  at  sea,  and  an  earthquake  upon 
the  shore.  In  both  instances  the  foundations  of 
things  are  imperilled,  and  that  upon  which  hu 
manity  ultimately  depends  is  shaken.  Indeed 
the  disasters  are  much  alike.  So  long  as  the 
ship  floats,  or  the  earth  stands,  the  case  is  not 
wholly  desperate;  and  even  though  the  ship  be 
wrecked  and  torn,  her  seams  started,  her  hold 
full  of  water,  yet,  in  case  of  a  wooden  vessel  like 
the  Swiftsure,  she  may  still  float  and  afford  a 
wave- washed,  tempest-tossed,  chance  of  life;  as 
the  unshaken  earth,  whatever  else  may  hap, 
remains  a  point  of  rest.  But  when  the  ship 
burns,  unless  the  fire  can  be  put  out  the  helpless 
mariners  are  left  without  resource. 

[33] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

What  started  the  fire  Captain  Stephen  Cleve 
land  never  knew.  He  could  have  developed  it  by 
investigation,  could  he  have  enjoyed  the  leisure  to 
conduct  it ;  but  the  most  precious  of  commodities, 
time,  was  lacking.  He  might  have  fought  it 
successfully  if  he  had  counted  in  his  crew  a 
normal  number  of  men  of  courage  and  discipline, 
by  which  alone  we  are  able  to  overcome  the  dis 
abilities  incident  to  shortness  of  time,  or  what 
ever  catastrophe  may  be  toward.  A  crew  of 
Salem  sailors  of  the  olden  time  might  possibly 
have  made  short  work  of  that  conflagration,  but 
the  Asiatics,  Kanakas,  Chinese,  quite  unleavened 
by  the  riffraff  of  degenerate  Caucasians  who 
were  associated  with  them  now,  all  played  the 
coward's  part.  Almost  before  the  pumps  were 
rigged  the  foremast  was  ablaze;  a  falling  yard 
miserably  but  effectually  disposed  of  the  two 
mates,  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland's  best  men  — 
death  as  usual  choosing  the  shining  mark.  After 
that  there  was  no  stopping  the  swift  devouring 
fire,  or  the  wildly  terrified  men. 

I  could  describe  in  detail  this  conflagration, 
the  rapid  consumption  of  the  great  ship.  I  have 
been  a  sailor,  and  on  the  ocean  have  I  fought 

[34] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

fire,  and  that  successfully,  or  I  should  not  be 
telling  this  veracious  tale.  But  I  have  matters 
of  greater  moment  than  burning  ships  before  me, 
and  in  a  world  which  has  forgotten  the  very 
names  of  the  masts  and  ropes  and  spars  of  the 
glorious  "  wind-jammers  "  of  the  past,  the  de 
scription  would  be  mainly  unintelligible  to  the 
reader,  and  therefore,  time  wasted.  Besides,  this 
is  not  a  sea  story,  and  I  must  get  on. 

By  nightfall  the  ship  was  a  flaming  volcano. 
The  loss  of  the  mates,  and  the  mutinous  conduct 
of  the  wretched  crew,  had  destroyed  any  chance 
of  escape.  The  wind,  enkindled  to  ambition 
perhaps  by  the  sight  of  the  leaping  flame,  had 
risen  rapidly  until  it  was  blowing  a  mad  gale, 
sweeping  down  from  the  Line  —  the  Equator,  O 
ye  landsmen!  —  over  three  hundred  leagues  of 
open  ocean  without  a  thing  to  break  its  onrush, 
save  some  wildly  tossing  ship.  After  the  fore 
mast  went,  with  the  stays  forward  burned  away, 
the  gale  soon  disposed  of  those  abaft  the  lost 
spar;  main  and  mizzen  presently  carried  away, 
and  booms  and  yards  and  bellying  sails  were 
hurled  to  leeward  in  one  great,  gray,  fire- 
touched  cloud,  seen  mistily  for  a  moment  against 

[35] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

the  black  sky.  The  ship  was  thus  left  helpless.  The 
captain  with  his  own  hands  at  the  wheel  had 
somehow  managed  to  keep  the  Swiftsure  before 
the  wind,  to  blow  the  flames  forward  and  leave 
aft  as  much  of  haven,  and  for  as  long  a  time,  as 
might  be. 

Death,  as  if  repentant  of  the  ruthlessness  of 
his  first  onfall,  had  distributed  his  subsequent 
favors  impartially.  He  began,  by  the  way,  with 
a  drunken  sailor  in  the  fore  hold  with  an  over 
turned  lamp  (concealed  fact  which  the  author, 
more  omniscient  than  a  mere  sea  captain,  dis 
closes  to  the  reader  as  the  origin  of  the  confla 
gration)  ;  and  he  ended  by  considerably  thinning 
out  the  crew  in  various  ways  during  the  course 
of  the  battle.  In  his  efforts  to  drive  the  cowards 
to  work,  and  to  maintain  discipline,  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland  had  dealt  out  death  himself 
to  one  or  two,  but  with  such  little  effect  on  the 
terrified  mass  of  panic-struck,  craven  wretches, 
that  he  soon  desisted  from  the  effort. 

Behold  this  shipmaster  now,  half  naked,  his 
clothes  burning  from  his  back,  his  skin  smoked 
black,  soot-covered,  flame-scorched,  showing 
blistered  through  smouldering  rents  and  tears, 

[36] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

his  hands  bleeding,  the  hair  burned  from  his 
head,  his  lips  cracked  and  broken,  his  eyeballs 
seared,  holding  the  helm  indomitable  —  a  master 
of  men,  indeed! 

On  either  side  of  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland 
an  eager  mass  of  wildly  excited,  frightened  curs, 
yellow-faced  mainly  and  yellow-streaked  in  the 
heart,  too,  are  struggling  around  the  two  quarter- 
boats,  to  starboard  and  port  respectively  —  the 
boom-boats  amidships  having  long  since  burned 
with  the  rest  of  the  ship.  In  despair  Captain 
Cleveland  had  at  last  left  jthem  to  their  own 
devices.  Sink  him,  save  him,  he  would  at  least, 
for  their  sakes  and  for  his  own,  keep  true  his 
helm! 

Back  of  these  groups,  where  the  whaleboat 
swung  across  the  stern,  the  old  boatswain  —  only 
true  man,  apparently,  to  back  the  captain — kept 
guard,  belaying-pin  in  hand,  one  or  two  rash, 
intruding  wretches  reeling  back  before  him 
having  felt  the  force  and  power  of  his  mighty 
arm.  By  this  hardy  sailor's  side  —  undaunted, 
like  her  husband  and  not  less  heroic  she  —  still 
stood  Julia  Cleveland.  Seeing  how  things  were 
going,  realizing  the  inevitable,  Captain  Stephen 

[37] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

Cleveland  had  placed  her  in  the  veteran  boat 
swain's  care.  < 

So  soon  as  it  became  evident  that  the  fire  could 
not  possibly  be  controlled,  Julia  had  gone  below 
to  her  cabin  and  gathered  a  few  poor  necessities 
in  a  little  bag,  in  obedience  to  her  husband's 
hurried  directions.  She  had  done  more,  of  her 
own  motion:  she  had  filled  the  lockers  of  the 
whaleboat  with  provision  from  the  cabin  stores, 
her  movements  luckily  being  unnoticed  by  the 
men,  in  their  excitement.  Now  by  the  side  of 
the  boatswain  and  a  few  of  the  best  men  remain 
ing  faithful,  she  waited  for  she  scarce  knew  what, 
unless  it  were  the  pleasure  of  her  lord. 

In  wild  confusion  the  surviving  cowards  piled 
into  the  two  quarter-boats.  With  unskilfulness 
begot  of  fear,  the  falls  were  overhauled  some 
how,  and  the  boats  lowered  away.  The  sea  was 
running  madly.  To  launch  the  cutters  under 
such  conditions  were  tasks  difficult  enough  for 
cool  head  and  skilful  hand;  in  both  cases  the 
present  attempt  resulted  in  quick  disaster.  A 
great  sea  caught  the  one  to  starboard,  drove  it 
with  hammer-like  force  under  the  counter,  and 
smashed  it  to  kindling  wood  on  the  instant.  The 

[38] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

wave  for  the  moment  was  crested  with  white 
faces,  staring  agonizedly  as  the  ship  swept  on. 

The  boat  to  port  swung  clear  and  lay  for  a 
moment  water-borne  in  the  trough  of  the  sea; 
but  oars  could  not  be  broken  out  before  she 
broached-to  and  capsized.  The  watchers  aft 
caught  a  glimpse  of  two  men  clinging  to  the 
yielding  twisting  keel,  their  pallid  cheeks  gleam 
ing  in  the  wet  in  the  radiance  of  the  flame,  ere 
darkness  fell  upon  them.  That  tragedy  was  over 
almost  before  it  had  begun. 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland,  noting  it  all  with 
a  kind  of  pitying  contempt  for  these  poor  un 
fortunates,  shouted  a  hoarse  order  to  the  boat 
swain.  The  men  with  him,  somewhat  sobered  by 
the  reckless  handling  of  the  other  boats  and  by 
the  dire  consequences  to  their  shipmates  of  the 
haste  and  confusion  in  their  launchings,  stepped 
rapidly  into  the  whaleboat  by  the  boatswain's 
orders.  She  was  provided  with  air-tight  com 
partments  forward  and  aft,  a  new  device  then; 
and  while  they  held,  she  was  unsinkable.  The 
oars  were  then  slipped  in  the  rowlocks,  and  last 
of  all,  the  boatswain  took  his  place  in  the  stern 
sheets.  He  clasped  the  steering  oar  and  mo- 

[39] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

tioned  the  captain's  wife  to  follow.     She  posi 
tively  refused  to  do  so. 

A  low  growl  of  anxious  entreaty  broke  from 
the  lips  of  the  nervous  men  on  the  thwarts,  a 
hand  forward  fumbled  at  the  falls,  the  boat 
swain  rose,  oar  in  hand,  and  it  was  astonishing 
how  he  maintained  his  foot-hold  on  the  boat 
swinging  at  the  davits. 

"  Keep  fast  that  fall  till  I  give  the  word,"  he 
roared  to  the  man  forward,  poising  the  oar 
menacingly  in  his  hand  as  he  spoke,  "  or,  by  God, 
I  '11  brain  ye  where  ye  sit,  ye  damned  cowards. 
Ye  saw  what  happened  to  the  other  fools;  your 
life  depends  on  obeyin'  orders."  His  voice  rose 
so  that  it  could  be  heard  above  the  roaring  of  the 
flames  and  the  rush  of  the  wind.  "  Come  aboard, 
ma'am,"  he  said  to  Julia  Cleveland. 

"I  won't  leave  my  husband,"  answered  the 
woman,  stubbornly. 

"He'll  be  comin*  presently,"  explained  the 
boatswain,  hurriedly.  "  He  '11  bring  the  ship  to 
the  wind,  so  's  to  give  us  a  lee  to  launch  this 
boat  in.  We  could  n't  do  it  in  this  f ollerin'  sea. 
See,  our  painter's  fast  to  the  mizzen  chains. 
We  '11  swing  alongside  for  a  moment  an* — " 

[40] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"For  God's  sake,  go,  Julia!"  cried  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland. 

At  this  juncture  he  had  looked  aft  for  a  second 
and  had  instantly  divined  what  was  taking  place. 
The  flames  were  roaring  at  his  feet,  the  heat  had 
became  unbearable,  the  wind  had  kept  them  for 
ward  of  the  wheel,  but  between  decks  they  had 
full  sway,  and  in  the  long  battle  they  were  the 
conquerers. 

"  Not  without  you,  Stephen,"  answered  his 
wife  resolutely  —  her  first  disobedience. 

"  I  can't  hold  this  wheel  longer,  you  must  go," 
he  roared  back  in  reply. 

Julia  Cleveland  still  determined,  started  to 
ward  him,  but  now  the  boatswain  suddenly 
caught  her  around  the  waist,  and  in  spite  of  her 
struggles,  lifted  her  into  the  boat  as  if  she  had 
been  a  child.  He  set  her  down  in  the  stern  sheets 
and  placed  his  knee  against  her  to  hold  her  there. 

"Right-O!"  he  cried. 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  nodded  approv 
ingly.  He  put  the  helm  over  rapidly,  he  jammed 
it  down  hard,  and  all  that  was  left  of  the  Swift- 
sure  slowly  ran  up  into  the  wind.  The  captain 
held  her  there  with  flames  wreathing  the  spoke 

[41] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

ends.  Hands  at  the  falls  lowered  the  boat  away; 
the  oars  were  out-thrust  as  she  descended ;  stand 
ing  by,  the  men  bent  aft,  and  with  outstretched 
blades  were  ready  for  the  water's  touch.  In  an 
instant  the  small  boat  was  afloat. 

"Give  way!    Strong!"  roared  the  boatswain. 

The  water  caught  the  shallop  and  heaved  her 
up  toward  the  burning  hulk  of  the  ship,  low  in 
the  water  now.  The  old  seaman's  handling  of 
the  boat  was  magnificent.  There  was  a  com 
forting  quiet  for  a  few  seconds  under  the  lee  of 
the  clipper.  The  boatswain  stared  anxiously 
toward  the  quarter-deck,  now  flame-crowned, 
waiting  for  the  master.  The  painter,  the  long 
line  which  attached  the  small  boat  to  the  ship, 
tightened  as  she  rolled  to  a  sudden  sea.  At  that 
instant  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  appeared  at 
the  rail  not  fifteen  feet  away,  and  the  relieved 
boatswain  swung  the  whaleboat  toward  the  ship. 

The  brave  shipmaster  had  held  the  burning 
wheel  until  it  dropped  to  pieces  beneath  his 
blistering  hands.  His  face  was  black  and  bloody; 
a  monster,  a  demon,  could  not  have  looked  more 
terrible.  Slowly  and  painfully,  for  he  was 
frightfully  burned,  he  thrust  one  leg  over  the 

[42] 


rail;  as  he  did  so,  he  reached  for  the  painter, 
which  was  made  fast  to  what  was  left  of  the 
after  swifter  of  the  mizzen  rigging.  He  in 
tended  to  grasp  it,  to  let  himself  down  into  the 
water  by  it,  to  be  hauled  aboard  and  then  to  cut 
it  and  go  free. 

Fate,  however,  had  not  yet  done  her  worst 
for  this  pair  who  had  been  so  happy.  A  gust  of 
wind  carried  a  burning  brand  of  some  kind  in 
front  of  the  captain's  face;  he  instinctively 
shrank  back  a  moment;  in  some  way  the  fire 
lodged  upon  the  rope.  Another  roll  of  the  ship, 
another  surge  of  the  small  boat,  and  the  connect 
ing  link,  flame-weakened,  was  severed.  While 
Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  stood  staring,  the 
whaleboat  was  whirled  away  into  the  surround 
ing  blackness.  A  woman's  scream  came  faintly 
up  against  the  wind,  and  died  away.  He  had  a 
glimpse  of  a  white  face,  and  it  too  was  gone. 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  clapped  his  hands 
to  his  face  and  then  even  his  inflexible  will  gave 
way.  He  fell  backward,  apparently  into  a  seeth 
ing  mass  of  flame.  Ere  he  completely  lost  con 
sciousness  he  felt  himself  crash  through  the 
redhot  planking.  He  was  conscious  of  burning 

[43] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

arms  reaching  out  to  clasp  him.  The  pain  might 
have  been  excruciating,  he  did  not  think  of  it 
then,  for  all  his  consciousness  was  merged  in  the 
remembrance  of  one  white  face,  the  reverbera 
tion  of  one  wild  cry  in  the  night,  heard  across  the 
awful  sea.  And  then  Captain  Stephen  Cleve 
land  mercifully  knew  no  more. 

A  few  short  hours  since,  he  had  reckoned  him 
self  the  happiest  of  men;  now  he  lies  alone  in 
the  hold  of  his  great  ship,  burning  fiercely  above 
his  head,  with  no  human  hand  to  control  her, 
driven  madly  by  the  wind  and  tossed  by  the 
surges  of  the  great  sea.  The  ocean  had  been  the 
scene  of  his  triumphs:  there  he  had  fought  and 
there  he  had  conquered ;  and  now  like  a  Viking  of 
old  he  was  embarked  for  Valhalla  and  eternity, 
amid  the  flames  of  his  own  ship. 

Farther  away,  indifferent  now  to  the  burning 
ship,  a  few  men,  nerved  to  desperation  by  the 
perils  with  which  they  found  themselves  en 
vironed,  and  inspired  almost  to  the  sublime  by 
the  heroic  courage  and  splendid  seamanship  of 
the  old  boatswain,  battled  to  keep  head  to  the 
sea  a  tiny  vessel  whose  thin  wooden  planks  did 
not  seem  calculated  to  withstand  the  tremendous 

[44] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

strain  to  which  they  were  exposed.  From  the 
stern  of  the  little  boat  a  woman,  dead  apparently, 
but  for  the  rapid  heaving  of  her  bosom  and  the 
painful  fixity  and  concentration  of  her  gaze, 
stared  at  a  diminishing  spark  of  light,  now  rising 
into  vision  upon  the  crest  of  a  wave,  now  sinking 
into  darkness  in  the  hollow  of  the  sea. 

"Behold,  how  great  a  matter   a  little   fire 
kindleth!" 


CHAPTER  III 

DISCLOSES   MAN,    PROUD    MAN,    FIGHTING    DESPER 
ATELY  FOR  LIFE,  WHICH  HE  THOUGHT 
HELD   NOTHING  FOR   HIM 

NO,  gentle  reader,  as  you  have  doubtless  sur 
mised,  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  did  not 
die;  neither,  I  will  admit  without  hesitation,  did 
Julia  his  wife.  They  both  survived  their  en 
vironment  of  peril,  although  it  was  a  long  time 
until  they  met  again,  and  much  happened  ad 
interim.  This  is,  of  course,  inevitable,  else  there 
had  been  no  story  to  tell  about  them. 

What  doth  it  profit  a  man  to  go  into  exact 
details  as  to  how  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland, 
whom  we  saw  so  suddenly  precipitated  like 
Shadrach,  Meshach,  and  Abednego,  into  a  burn 
ing  fiery  furnace,  managed  to  escape  instant 
death?  For  one  thing,  he  fainted  as  he  fell; 
for  another  he  pitched  through  weakened  burn 
ing  planking  down  to  the  very  bowels  of  the  ship, 
which  the  flames  had  not  yet  touched,  and  there 

[46] 


TAS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

he  lay  oblivious,  until  the  heavens  opened  and 
the  rain  descended  and  beat  upon  that  ship,  until 
the  fall  became  a  flood. 

The  rain  came  just  in  time  to  put  out  the  fire. 
Indeed,  except  away  aft,  where  some  few  ele 
ments  of  form  and  shape  still  remained,  the 
Swiftsure  had  already  been  burned  to  the  water's 
edge.  She  had  even  been  gutted  of  her  cargo, 
and  the  fire  aft  must  have  soon  expended  itself 
for  lack  of  that  on  which  to  feed.  True  it  is,  that 
in  its  final  efforts  it  would  undoubtedly  have 
done  away  with  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland;  for 
the  rain,  as  has  been  noted,  came  in  the  very 
nick  of  time. 

The  rain  which  put  out  one  fire  revived  another 
fire  in  another  sense ;  that  is,  it  restored  our  hero. 
Is  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  hereafter  to  be 
a  hero  or  not,  I  wonder? 

In  this  limited  life,  with  its  inadequate  appre 
ciation  of  the  future,  it  is  not  given  us  to  know 
whether  there  will  be  pain  or  joy  in  the  resur 
rection.  I  think  it  must  be  painful  for  humanity 
to  slough  off  this  mortal  coil,  even  though  it 
thereafter  rise  into  immortal  being.  For  this 
[victim  of  fire  and  flood  the  awakening  was  in- 

[47] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

deed  a  resurrection;  for  with  all  the  conscious 
ness  that  remained  with  him  as  he  fell,  Stephen 
Cleveland  had  been  convinced  that  instant  death 
was  his  only  portion. 

He  was  naturally  dazed  when  he  did  awake, 
and  only  the  quick  and  painful  remembrance  of 
that  wild  cry  in  the  night,  that  white  face  in  the 
darkness,  convinced  him  finally  that  wherever  he 
might  now  be,  he  was  not  in  paradise.  I  suppose 
he  was  too  shocked,  bruised,  and  burned  to  recall 
that  fact  during  the  first  moment  in  the  surpass 
ing  physical  pain  he  suffered,  but  soon  enough 
that  bitter  recollection  added  its  poignant  touch 
to  all  his  other  miseries. 

Imagine,  if  you  will,  a  body  scorched,  blistered, 
burned,  bruised  by  a  hard  fall,  every  tender  spot 
throbbing  with  anguish  as  the  man  was  helplessly 
rolled  about  in  the  bottom  of  the  ship.  Imagine, 
if  you  can,  a  doom  sentence  delivered,  the  penalty 
inflicted,  a  heart  broken,  a  tie  severed,  a  hope  lost, 
an  eternal  desire  unsatisfied,  a  life  —  two  lives  — 
blasted.  These  are  the  states  material  and  spir 
itual  of  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland. 

The  sailors  have  an  old  rhyme  that  runs  this 
way: 

[48] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"With  the  wind  before  the  rain, 
Hoist  your  tops 'Is  up  again; 
With  the  rain  before  the  wind, 
Your  tops'l  halyards  you  must  mind." 

And  the  sign  did  not  fail  in  this  instance,  for 
the  deluge  of  rain  was  succeeded  by  a  tornado  in 
which  the  wave-washed  hulk  became  the  toy  and 
sport  of  the  angry  seas.  Now  it  was  lifted  to 
heaven,  now  it  was  sunk  into  the  black  void  of 
some  watery  hell.  Now  it  swung  vertiginously 
on  the  periphery  of  some  vast  vortex,  into  which 
by  and  by  it  would  be  sucked  down  irresistibly 
only  to  be  vomited  forth  on  the  mighty  crest  of 
some  saline  eruption.  It  was  as  unimportant  and 
inconsequential  as  a  chip  in  a  rapid,  save  that  the 
chip  goes  one  way  under  such  circumstances,  but 
the  hulk  went  every  way. 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  expected  the 
wreck  to  break  up  under  him  at  any  moment.  It 
was  scarcely  conceivable  that  any  fabric,  how 
ever  stoutly  constructed,  could  withstand  such  a 
tremendous  shaking.  But  the  makers  of  that  ves 
sel  had  builded  better  than  they  knew;  however 
much  of  mad  buffeting  this  "  tennis  ball  of  for 
tune"  received,  it  still  floated.  The  instinct  of 

[49] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

life  —  instinct  surely,  since  reason  told  him  that 
he  had  no  longer  any  interest  for  which  to  live  — 
made  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  fight  on  with 
the  ship. 

To  get  or  to  maintain  a  footing  was  impossible. 
He  crawled  to  that  portion  of  the  hulk  which 
stood  highest  above  the  waves  and  clung  there, 
finding  convenient  iron-work  fast  to  naked  ribs 
for  handhold.  Thereafter  he  was  hurled  back 
ward,  or  thrown  forward,  or  flung  sideways  like 
the  cracker  of  a  whip-lash.  His  arms  were  almost 
pulled  from  their  sockets.  Again  and  again 
breaking  seas  overwhelmed  him,  wreathing  long 
arms  about  him  as  if  they  would  fain  tear  him 
from  his  holding.  The  maw  of  the  monster  was 
opened  before  him  to  swallow  him  up;  but  Cap 
tain  Stephen  Cleveland  would  not  be  denied,  he 
held  on. 

It  often  happens  that  when  man  can  do  no 
more,  he  can  still  hold  on;  and  in  the  battle 
between  sea  and  wreck  and  man,  the  man  at  last 
won.  I  will  not  say  that  calm  supervened,  but 
toward  morning  the  fury  of  the  tempest  spent 
itself.  The  waves  still  rolled  in  watery  Alps,  but 
they  were  smoothing  into  foothills  of  sea  rapidly. 

[50] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

The  crazy  hulk  became  quieter,  comparatively 
speaking.  The  stern  being  the  highest  portion 
of  the  wreck,  the  wind  swung  it  about  and  drove 
before  the  gale  the  remains  of  the  ship.  Back 
ward  like  a  crab,  and  at  the  crab's  rate,  it 
progressed  languidly.  And  Captain  Stephen 
Cleveland,  utterly  worn  out,  presently  fell  into 
the  heavy  sleep  of  complete  exhaustion;  glad,  if 
he  could  have  voiced  his  thoughts,  for  the  merciful 
oblivion. 

Behold  him  there,  naked,  black  from  smoke  or 
bruises  where  he  was  not  red  or  bleeding,  the  only 
living  object,  lying  helpless,  unconscious,  in  the 
bones,  the  gaunt  skeleton  of  the  once  great  ship, 
the  fierce  tropic  sun  by  and  by  beating  down 
upon  him,  as  he  lay  rolling,  wallowing,  in  stupor 
on  the  charred  and  jagged  planks. 

Man,  proud  man!  And  what  is  he,  O  Lord, 
that  Thou  art  mindful  of  him  ? 

It  was  late  afternoon  when  Captain  Stephen 
Cleveland  awoke  to  intolerable  thirst,  to  excru 
ciating  pain  breaking  forth  in  every  stiffened 
wound,  in  every  red-hot  blister;  awoke  to  take 
stock  of  the  circumstances  and  to  begin  the  battle 
for  life  again. 

[51] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

Alas!  he  who  had  been  master,  was  now  worse 
than  slave.  He  was  helpless:  what  the  fire  had 
spared,  the  sea  had  torn  away ;  there  was  no  food, 
no  water,  no  tool,  no  weapon,  no  shelter.  A 
naked  man,  a  sick  man,  a  tortured  man,  a  thin 
shell  of  straining,  half -burned  wood  between  him 
and  watery  voids  miles  deep  —  such  was  his  phys 
ical  condition.  What  was  his  mental  state? 

In  one  short  day  everything  he  owned  in  the 
world  had  gone.  Naked,  indeed,  in  that  hour, 
and  defenceless  before  his  unseen  yet  malevolent 
adversary!  His  wife,  his  young,  bright  wife, 
whom  he  loved  as  the  light  of  heaven,  torn  from 
him,  and  doubtless  her  body  now  floating  beneath 
him  in  the  oozy  depths  of  this  same  cruel  sea. 

It  did  not  seem  possible,  if  her  experience  of 
weather  had  been  like  his,  that  the  whaleboat 
could  have  survived  the  seas;  and  he  had  no 
reason  to  expect  or  hope  that  the  furious  tempest 
had  broken  upon  him  alone. 

What  had  he  now  to  live  for?  Destitute, 
bereft,  O  God!  —  was  there  a  God  in  that  bright 
blue  heaven? 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland's  faith  wavered, 
yet  from  his  parched  lips  broke  incoherent 

[52] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

sounds  of  prayer;  and  because  he  was  a  man  and 
not  a  thing,  because  he  was  compounded  of  weak 
flesh,  blood,  and  bone,  and  not  of  oak  and  iron, 
seasoned  oak  or  tempered  steel,  he  fought  on. 

The  cool  waters  swept  across  the  hulk  at  his 
feet  tempting  him;  it  was  useless  fighting  longer; 
a  suicide's  plunge,  laving  the  heat  and  fever  of 
body  and  soul  in  the  cool  green  depths,  and  all 
would  be  over.  He  would  not  take  it.  He  would 
starve,  he  would  burn  with  thirst,  he  would  drift 
on  and  on  until  he  died,  if  death  must  be  his  por 
tion.  But  death  must  come  and  take  him.  He 
would  not  give  up.  No  single  step  of  his  own 
would  he  take  to  meet  death.  God  had  given  him 
life;  and  while  the  feeblest  pulsation  of  it 
throbbed  in  his  heart,  he  would  retain  it.  It  was 
for  God  to  take  it  again  if  He  willed — not  for 
him. 

Man,  proud  man!  Yea,  indeed  proud,  and 
rightfully  so. 

Why  prolong  the  agony  of  description  ?  Why 
go  into  long  details  of  interminable  days  beneath 
that  burning  sky,  upon  that  drifting  mass  of 
charred,  blackened,  slowly  disintegrating  timber  ? 
Why  dwell  upon  the  ghastly  craving  of  his 

[53] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

hunger,  the  awful  gnawing  pangs  of  fevered 
thirst  that  racked  and  tore  him?  Why  chronicle 
the  ravings  of  a  mind  diseased,  of  a  heart  broken, 
of  a  hope  crushed  ? 

Did  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  pray?  Yea, 
verily.  Did  Captain  Stephen  curse?  Aye,  that 
too.  But  he  did  not,  could  not,  die,  and  so  he 
drifted  on  and  on  and  on.  For  how  many  hours, 
through  how  many  days  of  blazing  sun,  for  how 
many  nights  peopled  with  black  and  gloomy  ter 
rors,  no  one  shall  say. 

By  and  by,  what  was  left  of  the  Swiftsure 
came  suddenly  to  a  rest.  A  heavier  sea  in  the 
gray  of  an  early  morning  lifted  it  up  and  flung  it 
down  upon  a  barrier  reef  over  which  the  white 
waves  broke  with  force  tremendous.  There  the 
wreck  hung,  fast  breaking  up.  The  resistless 
batterings  of  massive  seas  upon  her  planking,  the 
shock  of  her  striking,  the  sudden  cessation  of 
mad  motion  (the  tossing  at  first  had  made  him,  a 
veteran  of  many  cruises,  deadly  seasick,  while 
he  had  strength  enough  for  it)  finally  awakened 
Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  from  a  stupor  that 
should  have  been  his  last,  to  a  realization  of  what 
had  happened. 

[54] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

Opening  his  eyes,  he  saw  before  him  a  palm 
tree! 

Many  a  time  had  mocking  visions  of  sea  and 
shore,  of  home  and  his  wife,  displayed  themselves 
before  him  in  those  awful  hours.  Was  this  a 
final  effort  of  cruel  fate  to  sport  with  him  before 
he  died?  —  he  wondered.  He  stared  at  it,  un 
believing,  concentrating  all  his  dying  faculties 
and  fast  vanishing  consciousness  upon  it. 

The  tree  wavered,  it  swayed  before  his  vision, 
but  in  the  end  it  stood  fixed.  He  closed  his  eyes 
and  opened  them,  still  it  remained.  Could  it  be 
possible  that  the  ship,  or  what  was  left  of  her, 
was  at  rest  ?  And  upon  what  desert  lonely  shore  ? 

The  stern  had  been  uplifted  in  the  air  when  she 
struck.  He  heard  the  thundering  of  mighty  roll 
ers  coming  straight  down  from  the  Line  crashing 
against  the  sides,  biting  at  them,  tearing  off  piece 
after  piece.  Was  that  land  he  surveyed  from 
his  crumbling  throne?  He  was  most  curious 
about  it,  in  a  strange  sort  of  detached  way.  Was 
anybody  there?  Would  Julia  Cleveland  greet 
him  on  that  dazzling  mass  of  whiteness,  which 
by  and  by  he  divined  to  be  a  shining  strand  rising 
out  of  the  heavenly  waters  of  a  quiet  lagoon, 

[55] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

matched  in  color  only  by  the  azure  of  the  swell 
ing  sky? 

He  must  look  into  this  matter.  He  must  inves 
tigate  it  more  closely.  He  was  past  walking,  but 
he  could  crawl.  The  hulk  slanted  downward ;  he 
got  to  his  hands  and  knees.  Painfully,  the 
moments  seeming  hours,  he  made  his  way  to  the 
fore  part  of  the  ship.  His  progress  was  more 
like  falling  than  creeping.  At  last  reaching  the 
bows,  he  lifted  his  head  animal-like  and  peered 
landward.  Yes,  it  was  an  island  with  tree-clad 
hills.  Suddenly  a  wave  larger  than  the  rest  tore 
from  its  fastenings  the  charred  plank  to  which 
he  clung.  He  was  in  the  water.  Instinctively 
realizing  what  it  meant,  his  grasp  upon  it  tight 
ened  ;  it  was  his  last  effort.  To  let  go  now  would 
be  to  lose  everything;  to  hold  on  meant  life  and 
salvation.  Again  he  held  on. 

The  mounting  wave  rolled  him  across  the  shal 
low  lagoon.  Hard  by  there  was  an  opening  in 
the  barrier.  The  tide  was  flowing  in  —  the  great, 
deep,  slow-moving,  tremendous  tide,  the  irresist 
ible  tide  of  the  Pacific,  bore  him  shoreward, 
toward  the  shining  strand. 

He  could  not  have  made  a  stroke  now  with 
[56] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

arm  or  leg  for  his  life's  sake,  but  he  could  hold 
on  a  little  longer.  By  and  by  his  dragging  feet 
touched  the  bottom.  The  water  shallowed,  he 
abandoned  his  plank,  and  on  his  hands  and  knees 
again,  he  crawled  out  and  fell  prostrate  on  the 
sand,  his  lips  to  the  earth  he  had  never  so  loved 
before. 

He  could  not  lie  there  long.  A  little  dis 
tance  away  fresh  water  ran.  Slowly,  painfully, 
he  crawled  to  the  brook.  A  weaker  man  would 
have  drunk  until  he  died;  not  so  with  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland.  With  iron  constraint  he 
took  even  less  than  the  circumstances  warranted. 
•  Oh,  how  sweet,  how  heavenly,  was  the  taste 
of  water  that  was  fresh  and  life-giving,  after  a 
week  of  the  salt  and  loathsome  sea,  once  so  loved ! 

He  was  terribly  hungry  still,  but  he  for 
got  it  for  the  moment.  The  water  of  life 
flowed  before  him;  as  of  old,  it  was  free.  There 
was  no  one  to  bid  him  stay.  He  sipped  again 
and  again.  Greatly  refreshed  and  fearful  of 
taking  more,  he  crawled  farther  inland.  Beneath 
the  palm  he  found  a  broken  cocoanut.  For 
tunately  for  him  the  hard  shell  had  been  riven  in 
its  fall,  else  it  might  have  been  locked  in  armor 

[57] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

of  proof,  for  all  he  could  use  it.  He  ate  slowly, 
fighting  ravenous  desires.  The  sun  came  out  and 
enveloped  him,  as  he  lay  on  the  shore. 

Food,  drink,  warmth,  rest! 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  fell  asleep  upon 
his  island,  the  eye  of  God  watching  over  him. 
And  any  other  eye?  Who  knows  I 


[58] 


BOOK  II 
THE  ISLAND  OF  INNOCENCE 


CHAPTER  IV 

WHICH    SHOWS    HOW    THE    POOR    FORLORN    CAST 
AWAY   WAS   WATCHED   IN   THE   NIGHT 

THE  moment  he  awakened,  Captain  Stephen 
Cleveland  saw  that  it  was  very  late  in  the 
afternoon.  It  is  impossible  to  conceive  the 
exquisite  sense  of  refreshment  that  had  come  to 
his  poor  torn  body  and  his  poor  tired  soul  from 
the  long  quiet  hours  of  sleep  he  had  spent  lying 
upon  the  warm  and  yielding  sand  under  the 
spreading  palm. 

His  thirst  was  still  overpowering,  his  hunger 
frantic,  but  he  had  at  hand  the  wherewithal  to 
satisfy  both.  Indeed,  his  first  task  was  to  crawl 
to  the  brook  and  drink,  this  time  with  more  assur 
ance  and  with  more  satisfactory  results. 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  was  at  home  in  the 
tropics.  He  had  made  a  study  of  the  natural 
products  thereof.  He  could  distinguish  between 
fruits  pleasant  to  the  eye,  sweet  to  the  taste,  but 

[61] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

bad  for  the  body,  and  those  which  were  nourish 
ing  and  health-giving. 

Indeed,  strangely  enough,  lying  by  his  side  he 
found  scattered  some  of  the  food  products  to  be 
found  south  of  the  Line:  bananas,  a  pineapple, 
another  cocoanut,  and  other  fruits  he  was  too 
worn  out  to  recall  just  then.  How  these  things 
got  there  he  could  not  conjecture ;  indeed,  he  made 
no  attempt  to  speculate  upon  the  mystery,  if  such 
it  was,  having  other  things  to  think  of  and  nat 
urally  not  being  mentally  very  acute  under  the 
circumstances.  He  ate  and  drank  again,  un 
reasoning  and  contented. 

There  come  periods  when  to  eat  and  drink  are 
almost  the  only  desires.  Later,  when  the  physical 
man  should  be  satisfied,  the  spiritual  man  would 
make  those  demands  upon  him  which  no  food 
that  he  could  come  at  upon  any  deserted  island  in 
the  South  Pacific  seas,  or  anywhere  else,  would 
ever  be  able  to  satisfy. 

Was  this  island  deserted?  He  could  not  tell. 
At  all  events  nothing  had  troubled  him  so  far. 
Were  there  savage  cannibals  making  their  home 
upon  it?  He  had  no  means  of  ascertaining. 
Were  there  fierce  beasts  prowling  through  its 

[62] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

wooded  dells?  He  had  no  assurance  of  that,  but 
his  knowledge  of  the  Pacific  did  not  predispose 
him  to  anticipate  such  a  peril.  At  any  rate, 
before  the  possible  onslaught  of  the  one  or  the 
other  he  would  be  alike  helpless.  He  was 
philosopher  enough  not  to  worry  overmuch  about 
possible  dangers  which  he  could  not  avert,  and 
other  and  more  poignant  miseries  engrossed  him. 

Although  he  was  greatly  refreshed  by  rest  and 
food  and  drink,  not  in  a  day  or  in  many  days 
would  these  repair  the  ravages  wrought  by  the 
awful  experiences  through  which  he  had  passed, 
the  terrific  demands  that  had  been  made  upon 
him.  And  the  building-up  process,  with  nothing 
but  the  pineapple,  the  cocoanut,  or  other  purely 
vegetable  diet  —  upon  which  he  would  be  forced 
to  subsist  hereafter  for  many  days,  perhaps  for 
life  —  would  be  slow  until  he  became  accustomed 
to  it.  What  of  that?  Time,  which  had  been  so 
priceless  before,  was  now  as  valueless  as  though 
it  had  been  hoarded  heaps  of  gold  and  silver. 

Flashes  of  bitterness  tinged  the  complexion  of 
his  thoughts.  He  had  crawled  heretofore  be 
tween  brook  and  tree;  now  he  arose  to  his  feet 
and  walked  unsteadily.  It  was  his  first  sign  of 

[63] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

returning  manhood.  He  stared  seaward  first  of 
all.  It  had  been  calm  for  days,  comparatively 
speaking  that  is,  the  breeze  had  been  low  and 
steady,  but  upon  the  horizon  now  there  was  por 
tent  of  coming  storm. 

The  scorched,  ghastly,  blackened  bones  of  the 
ship  lay  upon  the  barrier  yet.  Should  the  wind 
rise  in  the  night,  what  was  left  of  her  now  would 
be  beaten  to  ultimate  pieces  by  morning  —  the 
final  end  of  the  great  clipper!  And  he  was  sick 
of  her,  he  loathed  the  sight  of  her.  He  forgot 
the  long  days  of  joy  and  peace  in  the  short  period 
of  horror  that  had  supervened. 

He  abhorred  the  sight  of  the  blue  sea  also. 
Each  white-capped  wave  mocked  him.  He  had 
been  its  master  ten  days  before;  now  he  was  its 
prisoner.  As  it  had  kept  ward  over  the  lonely 
and  desolate  island  from  the  beginning  of  time, 
so  it  would  keep  ward  over  him  it  had  hurled  upon 
it,  to  hold  him  there,  it  might  be  forever.  He 
shuddered  as  he  looked  at  its  bright  expanse.  For 
all  it  loomed  so  lovely,  for  all  it  showed  so  fair, 
beneath  its  shining  surface  lay  his  wife  beautiful. 
He  had  no  hope  otherwise.  Suddenly  he  cursed 
it  madly,  his  voice  rising  in  imprecation  in  the 

[64] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

silence  until  it  frightened  him  and  he  became  as 
suddenly  quiet  again. 

The  night  fell  with  tropic  unexpectedness. 
Where  should  he  pass  it?  He  had  no  choice, 
there  was  nowhere  to  go,  there  was  nothing  to  do, 
there  were  no  precautions  to  take.  He  was  very 
tired  and  sleepy.  Up  under  the  palm  tree  to  the 
low,  somewhat  sheltered  nook  in  the  sands,  he 
dragged  himself. 

He  knelt  down.  He  had  not  knelt  for  a  long 
time,  words  did  not  come  to  him  then,  petitions 
did  not  frame  themselves. 

"God!  God!"  he  murmured  at  last,  and  then 
he  fell  asleep. 

How  sound  was  that  slumber,  thought  the 
silent  watcher,  noiselessly  creeping  to  his  side, 
standing  poised  upon  slender  feet  with  hands 
outstretched  backward,  on  tiptoe  to  flee  from  this 
strange  mystery  at  the  faintest  indication  of  an 
awakening. 

In  that  sleep  what  dreams  were  those  of  Cap 
tain  Stephen  Cleveland?  How  luridly  before  his 
vision  flamed  his  ship!  How  piercing  within  his 
ear  the  appeal  of  his  wife  sounded  from  that 
black  darkness!  He  started,  he  moved  uneasily, 

[65] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

he  threw  himself  suddenly  to  one  side,  as  if  to 
free  himself  from  such  bitter  recollections. 

Light,  noiseless  as  the  mist  of  a  summer  morn 
ing,  the  watcher  fled  soundlessly  away  and  left 
the  sleeper  alone.  No  fierce,  bloodthirsty  savage 
was  there,  no  wild  beast  ravening  for  blood,  no 
subtle  serpent  poising  to  strike  had  watched  him 
as  he  slept.  What,  then?  Who,  then? 

It  was  broad  day  when  he  awoke,  more  mas 
ter  of  himself  with  every  hour.  Instincts  of 
cleanliness  came  to  him.  In  the  midst  of  the 
greatest  deprivations  which  life  could  bring,  he 
thought  how  much  he  craved  a  piece  of  soap! 
He  plunged  into  the  life-giving  water  of  the 
brook;  he  would  try  the  salt  seas  when  he  felt 
stronger  and  more  inclined  that  way. 

He  freshened  himself  and  cleansed  himself  as 
well  as  possible.  He  would  find  something  after 
a  while  to  facilitate  that  process  perhaps,  but  for 
the  present  he  had  to  be  content  with  the  water 
alone. 

He  did  not  find  it  difficult  to  get  something  to 
eat.  Fruit,  as  before,  was  piled  near  his  sleep 
ing  place,  and  this  time  he  marvelled  at  it.  How 
had  it  come  there  ?  —  surely  not  without  human 

[66] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

agency.  It  had  not  been  there  when  he  went  to 
sleep,  according  to  his  recollection.  Some  one 
must  have  brought  it.  Who  could  it  have  been? 

He  was  yet  feeble.  He  stared  landward  into 
the  thick  trees  with  a  sensation  of  terror;  yet  of 
what  had  he  to  be  afraid?  There  were  no  tor 
tures  that  he  had  not  undergone,  no  deaths  that 
he  had  not  died.  There  was  nothing  for  him  to 
live  for  now,  nothing  for  him  to  hope  for  on  that 
island,  which  ships  might  never  visit.  Naked  as 
when  he  came  from  his  mother's  womb  and 
almost  as  helpless,  he  might  have  said,  as  was  said 
of  old,  ff  I  can  of  mine  own  self  do  nothing !' 

Whoever  or  whatever  had  brought  the  things 
to  eat  there,  was  evidently  beneficent  and  kindly 
in  intention.  But  he  could  not  settle  the  matter 
just  then;  later  he  would  recur  to  it  with  growing 
interest. 

Resigned,  and  thankful  therefor,  he  made  his 
meal.  The  wind  had  risen  in  the  night,  but  he 
had  slept  on.  With  the  disappearance  of  the 
watcher  the  rainless  storm  had  broken  over  his 
head,  but  he  had  slept  on.  After  the  storm  a 
calm  had  come;  and  through  this,  too,  he  had 
slept  on. 

[67] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

He  sat  himself  moodily  down  upon  the  sand 
facing  the  sea.  The  ship  had  disappeared.  The 
long  waves  broke  upon  the  barrier,  and  there  was 
nothing  there  but  the  reef  and  rock  to  stop  their 
progress,  save  where  they  raced  through  the 
opening  and  fell  crashing  upon  the  beach.  Phys 
ically  he  felt  much  better,  in  other  ways  not  so 
well.  He  began  to  remember,  he  went  through 
it  all  again.  In  his  fancy  the  cup  of  happiness 
was  once  more  lifted  to  his  lips,  but  to  be  dashed 
down.  He  saw  things  in  their  right  relations, 
their  true  proportions,  and  in  the  seeing  he  was 
most  miserable. 

It  was  not  the  ship,  it  was  not  the  property 
embarked  in  it,  not  the  lost  men,  over  whom  he 
repined,  bitterly  and  sorrowfully  as  he  regretted 
them  all  —  it  was  his  wife,  the  woman  sweet  and 
splendid  to  whom  he  had  given  his  heart,  who 
had  been  his  ideal  all  the  years  of  his  life,  since 
he  began  as  a  boy  to  love  her.  What  had  they, 
either  of  them,  done,  that  they  should  thus  be 
parted?  Why  had  he  fought  for  life  without 
her?  What  did  it  hold  for  him  now?  He  buried 
his  face  in  his  hands  and  groaned  aloud.  Why 

[68] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

not?  There  was  nobody  there  to  see,  or  hear,  or 
care. 

Would  he  vegetate  upon  that  island  until  he 
became  a  degraded  brute,  feeding  and  perform 
ing  the  functions  of  life,  without  a  soul?  Why 
had  he  battled  so  to  preserve  that  life?  He 
looked  upon  himself,  his  wounds  already  begin 
ning  to  heal  in  the  fresh  pure  air,  youth  and 
strength  his  dower,  good  health  and  clean  living 
his  habit.  He  wondered  why  he  had  cared  to 
make  the  struggle  to  keep  alive.  A  thousand 
times  during  that  mad  wrestle  upon  the  hulk  with 
death  and  the  deep,  he  had  only  to  let  go ;  but  he 
had  held  on.  Even  then  something  stirred  within 
him,  indomitable.  He  shut  his  teeth  together  and 
rose  to  his  feet.  Perhaps  life  held  some  task  for 
him  after  all.  Surely  not  even  upon  the  loneliest 
island  would  he  fail  to  find  some  duty  owed  to 
God,  if  not  to  man. 

He  found  upon  the  edge  of  the  wood  broken 
pieces  of  cane ;  from  them  he  selected  one  to  serve 
as  a  staff.  As  he  was  naked,  he  gathered  foliage, 
broad  leaves,  and  twisted  them  about  his  waist. 
From  another  leaf  he  fashioned  himself  a  cover- 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

ing  for  his  head.  He  could  not  yet  endure  with 
out  discomfort,  and  perhaps  danger,  the  fierce 
rays  of  that  tropic  sun.  Thus  ready,  he  started 
to  survey  his  domain. 

The  barrier  reef  around  it  was  undoubtedly  a 
coral  reef,  but  the  island  was  the  volcanic  prod 
uct  of  some  long  past  cataclysm  which  had 
brought  it  from  the  deep  to  the  surface.  He 
readily  settled  the  points  of  the  compass  by  the 
sun.  To  the  northward  steep  cliffs  several  hun 
dred  feet  high  overhung  the  lagoon;  to  the 
southward  the  ground  sloped  gently  upward 
from  the  curving  beach  to  low  hills.  He  plodded 
along  the  beach  for  some  miles,  until  it  bent  away 
eastward  and  northward,  and  he  had  reached  its 
narrower  end.  He  was  not  equal  to  exploring  it 
farther  although  he  judged  it  to  be  two  or  three 
miles  across  in  its  widest  part,  and  possibly  ten 
or  more  long.  It  was  well  watered,  apparently 
abounding  in  all  the  natural  products  to  be  met 
with  south  of  the  Line.  Here  and  there  were 
open  glades  varied  with  stretches  of  woodland. 
The  vegetation  was  luxuriant  and  beautiful. 

The  breezes  blew  softly  over  him ;  birds  of  rare 
and  gorgeous  plumage  disported  themselves 

[70] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

before  him;  flowers  of  striking  shape,  magnifi 
cently  hued,  appeared  on  every  hand.  The  wind 
was  laden  with  spicery  and  balm.  It  was  a  little 
paradise  of  the  Pacific,  yet  so  lonely!  He  had 
no  idea,  plodding  painfully  and  drearily  along 
the  shore,  that  his  every  movement  was  being 
watched.  Eagerly,  intensely,  curiosity  com 
mingled  with  fear,  wistful  boldness  with  timor 
ous  desire,  observed  him. 

So  the  long  day  dragged  on.  At  eventide  he 
came  back  to  the  friendly  shelter  of  the  palm  tree. 
Once  again  the  night  fell,  once  again  he  slept  and 
dreamed,  once  again  there  crept  near  to  him  the 
figure,  as  before,  and  bent  over  him.  Something 
moved  him,  he  stirred  suddenly,  his  arm  flung 
about,  and  ere  she  could  escape,  his  fingers  closed 
tenaciously  about  the  ankle  of  a  woman. 


[71] 


CHAPTER  V 

WHEREIN  THE  EXCITED  PURSUER  DISCOVERS  THE 
ELUSIVE  SPIRIT  OF  THE  ISLAND 

A  WOMAN!  Had  Adam  found  his  Eve 
in  that  paradise  of  the  Pacific?  And 
would  a  serpent  follow  after,  in  accordance  with 
the  time-honored  legend? 

Surprising  and  most  unexpected,  this  contact 
with  a  human  being  awakened  Captain  Stephen 
Cleveland  into  instant  life ;  a  thrill  of  companion 
ship,  the  leaping  consciousness  of  fellowship  with 
his  kind,  shot  through  him.  The  limb  he  clasped 
was  warm  and  very  much  alive,  for  it  struggled 
violently  in  his  grasp.  He  had  lain  on  his 
back,  and  without  quite  realizing  what  was 
toward,  he  tried  to  sit  up ;  as  he  did  so,  the  being 
he  had  seized,  struggling  desperately  but  without 
a  sound,  as  he  without  a  word,  managed  to  effect 
a  release,  and  broke  suddenly  away. 

There  was  no  moon ;  the  night  was  softly  black, 
as  in  the  tropics.  Beneath  the  tree  where  he  lay, 

[72] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

no  radiance  from  the  thick  star-sown  sky  pene 
trated.  He  was  conscious  of  a  dim,  blurred 
figure  before  his  eyes  in  that  darkness.  He  heard 
a  faint  rustling  among  the  leaves,  as  she  darted 
away.  That  was  all.  Pursuit  was  useless  then. 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  sat  up  and  rubbed 
his  eyes  —  prosaic  aftermath  of  romance  that !  — 
and  wondered  if  it  was  a  dream.  He  had  had  so 
many  dreams  of  late,  and  in  all  of  them  a  woman, 
his  wife.  This  was  not  she,  beyond  peradventure. 
Indeed,  while  the  reader  knows  it  by  favor  of  the 
gracious  author,  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  him 
self  was  by  no  means  absolutely  sure  that  his  mid 
night  visitor  was  a  woman  at  all.  He  thought  so, 
the  slenderness  of  the  ankle  indicated  the  sex  of 
its  owner,  the  strength  with  which  it  had  been 
torn  away,  even  that  desperate  struggle  in  the 
dark,  seemed  to  predicate  a  woman  full  grown. 
Still,  both  conditions  might  have  been  fulfilled  by 
a  young  boy.  Did  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland 
hope  not,  I  wonder? 

Ah,  well,  his  brief  experience  in  that  hand 
hold  was  not  enough  to  enable  him  to  pronounce 
definitely  upon  the  question  of  sex,  and  he  was 
too  bewildered  to  care  very  much,  perhaps.  Of 

[78] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

but  one  thing  was  he  sure,  his  hands  had  touched 
a  human  being,  he  was  not  alone  upon  the  island ; 
and  for  that  he  could  not  but  be  supremely  glad. 

Imagine,  if  you  can,  dear  reader,  in  the  bosom 
of  your  family,  dwelling  perchance  in  the  bee 
hive  of  a  towering  city  apartment  house,  with 
thousands  of  other  families  close  at  hand  —  too 
close  it  may  be  —  what  it  meant  to  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland  to  realize  that  he  had  some 
kind  of  a  human  companion  upon  that  island. 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  had  not  thought 
that  he  could  ever  again  develop  such  inter 
est  in  any  human  being  as  suddenly  filled 
him  then.  After  a  time  he  arose  and  went  out 
from  the  shade  of  the  trees  and  stood  erect  in  the 
starlight  and  peered  about  him.  It  was,  he 
judged  from  the  look  of  the  sky,  about  two  in  the 
morning.  In  an  hour  or  so  day  would  break; 
thereafter  he  would  with  the  first  blush  of  the 
morning  light  begin  a  search  for  his  fellow  cast 
away,  for  as  such  he  instinctively  designated  the 
other. 

He  could  sleep  no  more.  With  what  anxiety 
he  waited  until  the  sun  rose  can  scarce  be  told. 
For  the  moment  his  thoughts  were  no  longer  con- 

[74] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

fined  to  one  woman;  for  a  little  while  Julia 
Cleveland  ceased  to  hold  the  only  place.  Yet  in 
his  longing  for  human  kind,  for  human  touch, 
for  human  speech,  he  bitterly  repined  at  the 
thought  that  came  to  him  presently,  that  whom 
soever  he  might  find,  it  would  not  be  she. 

At  last  to  the  eager  watcher  came  the  lagging 
day.  No  day  that  he  had  heretofore  spent  upon 
the  island  was  such  as  that  one  was  to  be. 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  was  a  methodical 
man,  and  he  intended  thoroughly  to  search  the 
island,  which  was  long  and  narrow  in  its 
configuration.  He  would  start  from  the  low 
southern  end  like  a  hunter  beating  a  covert,  and 
survey  the  length  and  breadth  of  it,  driving,  as 
he  hoped,  the  quarry  before  him. 

Before  he  began  his  search,  however,  he  went 
back  to  the  place  where  the  incident  had  occurred 
and  carefully  scrutinized  the  yielding  sand.  That 
his  adventure  had  been  no  dream  but  real,  he  was 
now  assured;  for  there  before  his  eyes,  clearly 
defined,  cleanly  marked  in  the  sand,  was  a  human 
footprint. 

Crusoe  was  not  more  surprised  at  a  similar 
revelation  than  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  at 

[75] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

that  sign.  Crusoe's  heart  was  filled  with  appre 
hension  at  the  Man  Friday's  marks  upon  the 
shore ;  satisfaction  and  curiosity  were  the  emotions 
of  this  later  Selkirk.  One  thing  he  noted  —  no 
boy  on  earth  ever  boasted  the  long,  narrow, 
slender,  perfectly  shaped  foot  that  had  made  the 
betraying  print  in  the  sand.  His  nocturnal  vis 
itor  was  a  woman.  Was  there  pleasure  or  the 
reverse,  in  this  knowledge  now  in  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland's  mind,  I  wonder? 

Scattered  on  the  sand,  dropped  in  confusion 
rather  than  in  the  dainty  order  he  had  marked 
before,  were  the  fruits  her  hand  had  gathered, 
votive  offering  to  the  strange  god  cast  up  by  the 
sea  on  her  hitherto  undisputed  shore.  There  was 
a  pitiful  sort  of  appeal  in  the  friendly  gift,  which 
touched  him  now  he  knew  whence  it  had  come. 
He  was  resolved,  naturally  enough,  to  find  her. 
He  had,  as  it  were,  once  more  a  purpose  in  life; 
it  might  develop  into  a  duty,  it  might  turn  out  to 
be  a  pleasure,  it  might  be  both,  it  might  be 
neither.  That  was  for  the  future ;  for  the  present 
he  must  find  her  —  only  that. 

His  eyes  keenly  scrutinized  the  shore,  the  while 
he  walked  as  rapidly  as  he  could  to  the  extreme 

[76] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

southern  end  of  the  island ;  there  he  faced  north 
ward  and,  choosing  a  middle  course,  steadily 
made  his  way  toward  the  distant  upper  end.  The 
southern  end  of  the  island  was  low,  sandy,  and 
open.  The  slope  was  toward  the  north,  and  the 
high  hills  were  there.  For  several  miles  the  land 
was  sparsely  wooded,  with  here  and  there  a  palm 
or  fern,  and  once  in  a  while  in  some  depression  a 
wild  canebrake.  He  almost  ran  here;  the  coun 
try  was  so  bare  as  to  prevent  any  possibility  of 
concealment  from  his  eager  investigation. 
Nevertheless  he  did  not  pass  any  coppice,  or 
clump  of  woods,  without  carefully  examining  it. 
He  was  determined  to  find  the  unknown  visitor 
of  the  night  before,  and  he  did  his  work  with 
consistent  thoroughness,  noting,  as  he  progressed, 
the  various  topographical  features,  the  fauna — 
birds  alone  —  and  the  flora  that  he  met. 

He  discovered  that  the  island  was  shaped  some 
thing  like  an  elongated  hour  glass  and  that  all  the 
high  and  wooded  part  was  on  the  northern  bulb. 
His  search,  when  he  passed  the  neck,  was  neces 
sarily  and  unfortunately  slower  and  more  toil 
some.  As  the  island  expanded,  he  had  to  range 
back  and  forth  and  from  side  to  side.  He  re- 

[77] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

alized  that  it  was  quite  possible,  notwithstanding 
the  care  he  was  taking,  for  the  pursued  to  double 
back  and  get  in  the  rear,  but  no  asylum  would  be 
afforded  thereby  and  the  chase  would  be  easily 
run  down  on  the  open  part  below  the  neck.  He 
persevered,  therefore,  plodding  on,  refreshing 
himself  at  noon  and  resting  upon  a  commanding 
knoll,  from  which  he  had  all  the  east  and  west 
and  south  in  view. 

His  task  might  have  been  more  difficult  had  he 
not  received  certain  assistance  toward  its  accom 
plishment  of  which  he  was  in  ignorance  and  upon 
which  he  had  not  counted.  The  pursued  who  fled 
from  him  with  mingled  feeling  of  avoidance  and 
desire  was  not,  after  all,  unwilling  to  be  caught. 

The  call  of  kind  to  kind  was  operating  in 
another  breast  than  his  own  and  struggling  with 
the  timidity  and  strangeness  of  half  a  score 
of  years  of  utter  isolation.  That  growing  will 
ingness  to  be  overtaken,  however,  was  only 
sufficiently  strong  to  cause  the  pursued  to  main 
tain  a  place  just  ahead  and  out  of  sight  of  the 
pursuer.  Enough  precaution  was  taken,  and 
enough  care  was  used,  to  keep  just  beyond  reach 
and  hearing,  but  no  attempt  was  made  really  to 

[78] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

get  away  or  to  seek  absolute  concealment.  Thus 
during  the  long  afternoon  the  two  plodded  on. 
It  was  a  very  ancient  situation,  indeed — hunter 
and  hunted.  Male  and  female  created  He  them, 
and  for  that  purpose,  I  wonder? 

The  island  ended  in  a  high  rocky  knoll,  the  top 
of  which  was  a  level,  grass-covered,  flower-decked 
plateau.  From  the  seaward  edge  the  cliff  fell 
sheer  down  perhaps  three  hundred  feet.  The 
little  savannah,  an  acre  or  more  in  extent,  was 
bordered  to  landward  by  trees  surrounding  on  one 
side  a  bare  pyramidal  mass  of  rock;  the  outer 
edge  was  clear,  and  from  it  one  had  a  fair  view 
of  the  long  eastward  side  of  the  island,  the  en 
circling  barrier  reef  upon  which  the  waves 
forever  broke,  and  the  shining  strand  far  below 
where  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  had  come 
ashore. 

The  tired  pursuer  was  conscious  that,  if  his 
day's  task  had  been  a  success,  he  would  here  find 
the  object  of  his  long  hunt,  since  he  had  now 
reached  the  ultima  Thule  of  the  island.  As  he 
burst  at  last  from  the  curtaining  trees,  he  stared 
surprised.  There  upon  the  sheer  and  giddy 
verge,  one  foot  almost  overhanging  the  cliff, 

[79] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

leaning  forward  slightly,  her  body  supported  by 
the  other  as  if  about  to  take  a  final  step  out  into 
the  blue,  her  figure  clearly  silhouetted  against  the 
sky,  lightly  and  gracefully  poised  as  a  bird  of 
the  air,  stood  a  girl  —  nay,  a  woman  —  looking 
back  at  him. 

Perhaps  fifty  paces  intervened  between  the 
two.  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  came  to  a  dead 
stop  in  wild  amaze.  He  had  not  expected  a  pic 
ture  of  such  f airylike  beauty.  He  had  not  antici 
pated  such  exquisite  grace  of  form  and  position. 
Some  wood  nymph,  some  sprite,  some  naiad  of 
other  days  apparently  had  suddenly  risen  before 
him. 

How  long  he  stared  can  not  be  known.  At 
last,  and  slowly  as  if  in  the  presence  of  a  shrine, 
he  stepped  forward.  As  he  did  so,  the  woman 
turned  and  faced  him,  her  hands  crossed  over  her 
graceful  but  still  immature  and  undeveloped 
breast.  She  stood  shrinkingly  before  him,  as  Eve 
might  have  drawn  back  before  Adam.  Which 
was  the  more  surprised  by  the  sight  of  the  other 
is  not  to  be  determined ;  they  both  stared  a  space, 
silent,  motionless.  It  was  from  the  man  that  the 
initiative  came.  With  steady  step  he  approached 

[80] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

her,  the  woman  waiting  in  an  attitude  of  appeal, 
welcome,  and  alarm  commingled. 

Although  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  had 
hegun  to  improve  from  his  burns  and  bruises,  and 
although  he  had  washed  himself  as  well  as  might 
be,  he  was  still  sufficiently  disfigured  not  to  pre 
sent  a  very  happy  or  fascinating  appearance. 
He  might  have  stood  for  satyr,  if  she  overlook 
ing  the  sea  played  nereid.  Still  he  enjoyed  one 
advantage:  in  the  country  of  the  blind,  it  is  said, 
the  one-eyed  are  kings,  and  Captain  Stephen 
Cleveland  was  the  only  man  present. 

The  outward  and  visible  were  all  in  which 
he  resembled  a  satyr.  There  was  something  so 
innocent,  so  girlish,  so  appealing  in  the  woman, 
that  even  a  brute  would  have  forborne  to  harm 
her  —  Una  and  the  lion !  Although  he  had  no 
appearance  of  a  gentleman,  or  what  is  properly 
supposed  to  be  such,  still  he  had  not  forfeited 
his  claim  to  that  ancient  and  honorable  degree, 
and  he  had  no  intention  of  doing  so. 

He  stopped  his  slow  progress  at  last  immedi 
ately  in  front  of  the  woman.  As  he  did  so  she 
dropped  her  hands  with  a  little  gesture  of  aban 
donment  or  renunciation,  as  if  to  say, 

[81] 


"  Here  am  I  at  your  mercy !  What  will  you  do 
with  me?" 

A  very  old  and  a  very  natural  question  between 
man  and  woman,  indeed,  under  the  circumstances 
and  under  many  other  circumstances,  like  and 
unlike  as  well.  There  was  no  present  answer  to 
that  interrogation.  Language  apparently  oc 
curred  neither  to  the  one  being  nor  the  other. 
The  man  carefully  inspected  the  woman,  and  the 
woman  with  equal  interest  returned  the  scrutiny. 
What  she  saw  we  know;  what  he  saw  it  is  difficult 
to  describe. 

She  was  not  a  tall  woman  and  certainly  not 
an  old  one.  He  judged  that  she  was  scarcely 
twenty.  She  was  as  dark  as  he;  yet,  in  spite  of 
the  tropic  suns  to  which  she  was  evidently 
habitually  exposed,  there  was  a  certain  paleness 
in  her  face,  and  her  eyes  were  frankly  blue. 

Her  raven-black  hair  curled  naturally  and  fell 
in  a  thick  and  tangled  mass  upon  her  exquisitely 
graceful  shoulders.  In  its  shadows  she  had 
thrust  a  gorgeous  scarlet  blossom.  Around  her 
waist  she  had  fashioned  some  kind  of  a  leafy  cov 
ering,  which  depended  half  way  to  her  knees. 
For  the  rest,  she  was  as  nature  had  made  her,  and 

[82] 


The  being  before  him  seemed  an  airy  fantasy,  a  part  of  the 
witchery  of  woodland,  a  creature  of  the  gentle  breeze 


nature  had  made  her  very   symmetrical,   very 
graceful,  very  beautiful. 

There  was  no  hint  of  passion  or  profanation  in 
the  direct  and  frankly  open  inspection  which  the 
man  gave  the  woman.  The  situation  was  so 
unusual,  so  unconventional,  that  considerations 
inevitable  under  other  circumstances  did  not 
obtrude  themselves;  and  besides  all  that,  the 
heart  of  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  was  too  com 
pletely  filled  by  the  image  of  Julia  his  wife  for 
any  other  woman,  however  beautiful,  however 
charming,  to  displace  her.  And  he  was  a  clean- 
minded  man,  a  clean-hearted,  simple  soul,  as 
sailors  frequently  are,  with  a  great  reverence  for 
all  women,  the  more  strong  because  of  his  great 
love  for  one  woman. 

The  being  before  him  seemed  very  young,  very 
immature,  very  innocent,  very  fair  —  an  airy 
fantasy  of  springtime  and  dewy  morning,  a  part 
of  the  witchery  of  woodland,  a  creature  of  the 
gentle  breeze,  of  white-crested  foamy  waves. 
He  stared  entranced,  charmed  by  her,  as  he 
might  have  impersonally  studied  a  picture  or  a 
statue ;  as  Pygmalion  might  have  looked  on  Gala 
tea  before  he  loved  her  and  she  came  to  life. 

[83] 


CHAPTER   VI 

IN    WHICH    CAPTAIN    STEPHEN    CLEVELAND   FINDS 
HIMSELF  FACE  TO  FACE  WITH  A  PROBLEM 

AS  I  have  said,  neither  being  seemed  to  think 
of  speech.  The  woman  had  little  recollec 
tion  of  humanity.  She  could  not  have  placed  the 
man.  The  man  had  enjoyed  some  experience  in 
the  South  Seas,  and  she  who  confronted  him,  he 
was  sure,  was  not  native  thereto;  there  was  too 
much  whiteness  in  her  skin,  too  much  brightness 
about  her  for  one  of  the  aborigines.  She  was  evi 
dently  a  castaway. 

Who  or  what  this  child-woman  might  be,  he 
could  not  tell.  He  had  no  idea  whatever  that  she 
could  speak  any  language  that  he  could  under 
stand,  and  for  that  reason  he  had  said  nothing. 
He  admitted  to  himself,  especially  now  that  he 
had  seen  her,  that  he  was  distinctly  glad  that  she 
was  there,  anything  was  better  than  the  loneliness 
as  before ;  and  yet,  he  would  not  have  been  a  man 
had  he  failed  to  realize  how  immensely  she  com- 

[84] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

plicated  life,  that  she  immediately  became  a  prob 
lem,  the  solution  of  which  would  undoubtedly 
involve  some  kind  of  duty,  the  invariable  con 
comitant  of  all  problems. 

He  recognized,  half  whimsically,  the  strange 
ness  of  the  situation.  He  was  just  an  honest, 
simple-hearted  mariner,  happily  married  to  a 
woman  whom  he  devotedly  loved,  suddenly  sep 
arated  from  her  (he  could  think  no  other  than 
that  this  separation  was  forever) ,  and  cast  upon 
a  desert  island  tenanted  by  another  woman;  a 
woman  just  as  beautiful,  just  as  fair  in  her  way, 
albeit  that  was  neither  so  high  nor  so  noble  a  way 
as  his  wife's  had  been.  And  what  was  he  to  do 
with  her?  All  these  thoughts  coursed  through 
his  mind  as  he  stood  staring  at  her. 

He  was  wondering  how  he  could  communicate 
with  her,  when  woman-like,  she  herself  broke  the 
silence.  He  had  made  the  first  step,  she  would 
have  the  first  word.  With  a  little  gesture  of 
entreaty,  outstretching  her  hand,  bending  for 
ward  her  body  in  a  way  like  her  every  other 
movement  altogether  charming,  she  gave  utter 
ance  to  speech.  She  spoke  slowly,  haltingly  as 
might  a  child  who  is  not  quite  familiar  with  the 

[85] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

words  it  desires  to  use,  or  as  a  person  recover 
ing  from  the  silence  of  a  long  illness,  who  has 
not  the  nervous  energy  for  a  rapid,  fluent  con 
versation,  —  although  it  was  evident  she  was  not 
lacking  in  nervous  force  or  bodily  vigor.  She 
uttered  a  few  words  in  a  language  that  was 
smooth,  flowing,  and  graceful. 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  had  voyaged  to 
many  parts  of  the  world  and  was  a  very  good 
linguist  of  a  rough-and-ready  sort.  The  woman 
spoke  French;  he  understood  her  perfectly,  and 
was  glad  he  could  speak  her  language  sufficiently 
well  for  all  practical  purposes.  What  she  said 
so  slowly  and  so  hesitatingly  was,  in  effect, 

"Please  don't  hurt  me." 

Somehow  that  petition  and  acknowledgment 
seems  to  typify  the  plea  of  primitive  woman  to 
primitive  man.  At  first  Captain  Stephen  Cleve 
land  did  not  answer  the  question. 

'You  are  French!"  he  exclaimed,  in  great 
surprise.  He  was  able  to  address  her  with  ease, 
even  if  not  with  grammatical  nicety  or  Parisian 
purity  of  accent;  but  she  was  not  critical,  and 
answered  brightly,  a  smile  illuminating  her  face 
as  she  did  so: 

[86] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"But  yes;  and  you?" 

"  I  am  American." 

"  That  is  next  to  France,"  she  continued, 
strangely  stumbling  in  her  speech  all  through 
the  ensuing  conversation,  evidently  thinking  hard 
to  recall  the  unwonted  words  to  her  tongue. 

"  My  name  is  Stephen  Cleveland;  and  yours? " 

"  Felicite  de  Marigny,  monsieur." 

"  I  am  very  glad  indeed  to  meet  you,  Miss 
Felicity,"  answered  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland 
of  New  England,  primly  and  without  a  thought 
of  the  ridiculousness  of  his  formal  and  conven 
tional  reply  to  this  Greek  goddess  on  that  wind 
swept  hill  in  that  unknown  island. 

It  was  not  thus  one  should  address  spirits  like 
Ariel,  compact  of  the  air,  the  sea  foam,  the  tropic 
blossom,  and  the  sunshine,  surely!  After  he 
spoke,  he  put  out  his  hand  to  the  woman,  and  she 
wonderingly  yet  instinctively  met  it  with  her  own 
small  and  slender  palm.  Captain  Stephen  Cleve 
land  shook  hands  vigorously,  and  then  "  Miss 
Felicity,"  as  he  called  her  then  and  thereafter, 
and  as  we  shall  name  her  during  the  part  she 
plays  in  this  true  relation,  repeated  her  question: 

'You  won't  hurt  me,  will  you?" 
[87] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"On  my  life,  before  God,  I  will  not,"  said 
Captain  Stephen  Cleveland,  earnestly. 

He  uttered  that  vow  freely  and  unreservedly, 
and  he  meant  to  keep  it;  and  without  a  doubt 
he  would  do  so,  in  so  far  as  in  him  lay. 

"  Thank  you,"  returned  the  other  simply  and 
gratefully. 

There  ensued  an  awkward  pause,  during  which 
neither  appeared  to  know  what  to  do  or  say  next ; 
and  then  it  was  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  who 
spoke. 

"  I  have  chased  you  all  day,"  he  said.  "  I  am 
very  tired;  you  have  many  things  to  tell  me, 
doubtless,  and  there  is  much  you  would  like  to 
know.  Let  us  sit  down." 

"  Come  this  way,"  said  the  girl,  turning  and 
speeding  lightly  along  the  cliff  edge. 

At  the  farther  end,  as  I  have  said,  a  mass  of 
rock  among  the  trees  was  lifted  above  the  plateau 
and  beneath  it  there  ran  a  grassy  path  along  the 
face  of  the  rock.  Following  his  guide,  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland  presently  found  himself  in  a 
charming  little  grotto,  so  situated  and  of  such 
contour,  that  once  within  one  would  be  safe  from 
almost  every  rain  and  storm  that  blew.  Furniture 

[88] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

there  was  none.    A  scattered  pile  of  dried  fern 
leaves  in  one  corner  indicated  a  sleeping-place. 

"  I  live  here,"  said  the  castaway,  with  a  little 
bow. 

She  had  all  the  ease  of  manner  and  self- 
possession  of  a  French  woman,  and  nature  and 
her  unrestrained  condition  only  emphasized  its 
ease  and  elegance.  Yet  her  bow  and  graceful 
gesture  seemed  oddly  formal  and  out  of  place. 
The  woman  sat  down  on  a  convenient  boulder, 
and  the  man  followed  her  example. 

"How  long  have  you  been  here?"  he  began. 

"  I  don't  know." 

"Have  you  no  idea?" 

"  I  remember  that  I  was  ten  years  old  —  when 
the  ship  was  lost." 

"  Seven  or  eight  years  at  least,"  commented 
Captain  Stephen  Cleveland. 

"  Yes,  I  think  so." 

"I  wonder  you  have  not  forgotten  how  to 
speak." 

"Every  day  I  sing  the  songs  my  mother 
taught  me;  every  day  I  stand  on  the  cliff  and 
speak  to  myself  and  the  sea;  every  night  I  say 
my  prayers  before  I  sleep." 

[89] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"You  were  cast  away  on  this  island?" 

"Yes." 

"How  was  that?" 

"It  was  a  ship  of  war;  my  father  was  the 
captain;  he  was  exploring  other  seas  and  other 
worlds. " 

" The  name  of  the  ship,  do  you  recall  it?" 

"Le  Brillant,  I  think." 

"  Oh,  she  was  lost  at  sea  and  never  heard  of. 
I  was  in  Bordeaux  when  the  matter  was  being 
discussed,  and  I  remember  perfectly,  —  she  was 
a  French  frigate  exploring  the  South  Seas.  Her 
captain  was  —  let  me  see  —  a  Count  Bernard  de 
Marigny,  I  think." 

"My  father,"  said  the  girl  tremulously. 

"  And  you  are  a  countess,  a  great  lady  in  your 
own  right,  mademoiselle." 

"  I  know  not  what  that  is,"  answered  the  girl 
sadly.  "  I  am  only  a  castaway." 

"What  happened  to  the  ship?" 

"  Her  masts  were  broken  off  in  a  storm.  She 
sprung  a  leak,  and  we  left  her  —  I  do  not  re 
member —  we  were  a  long  time  in  a  small  boat. 
Many  died,  my  mother  last  of  all  —  something 
cast  the  boat  upon  this  island  —  I  ate  and  drank 

[90] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

what  I  found  —  I  prayed  to  die,  monsieur;  but 
it  could  not  be,  and  here  I  am." 

She  threw  up  her  hands  with  a  characteristic 
shrug  of  her  pretty  shoulders,  charmingly 
French. 

"Have  you  never  seen  a  ship  since  then?" 

"  Once  or  twice  in  all  that  long  time,  but  far 
away,  and  I  could  not  call  them  to  me  —  so  I 
have  lived  here  alone  —  but  I  have  been  well 
and  happy."  She  laid  her  hand  upon  her  heart. 
"And  now  I  have  you,  monsieur." 

"Poor  child!"  exclaimed  Captain  Stephen 
Cleveland,  who  had  eagerly  followed  her  halting 
speech. 

He  shook  his  head  gravely.  Was  he  a  gift  to 
be  desired  by  this  girl?  Would  he  indeed  prove 
so?  Time,  the  determinator,  would  finally  an 
swer  that  question. 

"  But  you,  monsieur,"  asked  the  girl,  "  how 
did  you  come  here  ?  I  saw  your  ship  on  the  rocks 
yonder;  I  saw  you  come  ashore.  It  was  I  who 
placed  the  food  near  you  while  you  slept.  I 
was  glad  to  see  you  come,  but  I  was  afraid. 
Now  I  am  no  longer  afraid,  and  more  glad. 
Oh,  how  frightened  I  was  when  you  caught  me 

[91] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

last  night!  I  watched  you  search  for  me  to-day. 
I  was  just  ahead  of  you — I  might  have  hidden 
longer,  but  you  would  have  found  me  in  the  end, 
why  not?  I  am  at  your  mercy." 

"You  have  nothing  to  fear  from  me,  young 
lady." 

"  Call  me  Felicite,  monsieur,"  said  the  girl, 
instinctively  appreciating  the  emptiness  of  titles 
and  the  worthlessness  of  form  in  such  a  case. 

"Very  well,  Miss  Felicity,"  answered  the 
other.  "You  want  to  know  how  I  came  here?" 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  replied  the  girl.  "  I  have  been 
so  anxious  to  understand." 

Rapidly  he  outlined  his  story.  He  did  not 
enter  into  any  personal  details.  He  was  nat 
urally  a  reticent  man.  These  did  not  concern 
the  Spirit  of  the  Inland.  He  told  only  of  the 
loss  of  the  ship;  his  grief  was  too  overpowering 
for  him  even  to  allude  to  his  wife  and  her  death 
to  this  chance  acquaintance,  this  lively  and  en 
gaging  stranger,  this  sweet  sharer  of  his  solitude. 

Although  he  told  the  story  briefly,  without 
unnecessary  amplifications,  the  child  before  him 
understood  something  of  what  he  had  gone 
through,  something  of  the  struggle,  something 

[92] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

of  the  consequences.  Her  bosom  rose  and  fell 
with  emotion,  her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  she  sat 
entranced.  So  Desdemona  listened  when  Othello 
spoke.  She  interrupted  his  story  with  many 
ejaculations  of  pity,  surprise,  and  anguish,  and 
hung  breathlessly  on  his  final  words. 

"And  so,"  ended  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland, 
"we  are  here  together,  Miss  Felicity.  I  am  go 
ing  to  help  you  and  you  are  going  to  help  me. 
I  am  going  to  try  to  get  us  both  away  from 
this  island,  and  get  you  back  to  your  friends, 
and  you  are  going  to  help  me  to  keep  from 
going  mad  with  loneliness  and  sorrow  and 
despair." 

"Did  you  so  love  your  ship,  monsieur?"  she 
asked. 

"Not  so  much  the  ship." 

"And  your  men?" 

"  Not  so  much  the  men." 

"Was  there  another?" 

"Yes." 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  put  his  hand  up 
to  his  face  and  then  stared  away  seaward. 

"  And  was  she  —  " 

"  She  was  borne  away  from  the  ship  in  a  small 
[93] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

boat.  It  can  not  have  survived  the  storm  that 
followed.  She  must  be  there." 

He  pointed  out  toward  the  sea,  far  beneath. 

"  But  no,  monsieur,"  answered  the  girl  simply, 
pointing  upward,  "perhaps  there." 

A  very  simple  and  unsophisticated  child  of 
nature,  this  woodland  beauty.  Captain  Stephen 
Cleveland's  eyes  followed  her  upward  glance. 
Might  that  heaven  above  fall  upon  him,  he 
thought  swiftly,  if  by  any  act  of  his  she  were 
ever  robbed  of  that  sweetness  and  that  innocence 
which  were  her  only  portion. 

A  brave  and  honest  resolution.  O  stranded 
mariner,  see  that  you  keep  to  it! 


[94] 


CHAPTER  VII 

SHOWING   HOW   QUESTIONS   OF  PROPRIETY   WOULD 
OBTRUDE  THEMSELVES  EVEN  IN   EDEN 


rr^HE  awakening,  the  pursuit,  the  meeting, 
•*•  the  subsequent  conversation,  had  taken  the 
greater  part  of  the  day.  Neither  of  the  islanders 
made  any  account  of  time.  They  had  nothing 
upon  earth  to  do,  and  forever  apparently  to  do 
it  in.  But  the  declining  sun  admonished  one  at 
least  that  the  day  was  far  spent  and  the  night 
was  at  hand.  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  rose 
to  his  feet,  remarking, 

"  It  will  soon  be  night,  Miss  Felicity,  and  I 
must  go  back  to  my  palm  tree." 

"Why  not  stay  here?"  artlessly  asked  the 
young  woman  in  entire  innocence.  "  It  is  pleas 
ant  at  night  here  :  you  can  hear  the  roar  of  the  sea 
away  below,  and  when  the  dark  comes,  you  can 
look  out  and  see  the  bright  stars." 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  shook  his  head. 

"I  am  afraid  not,"  he  answered. 
[95] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"  There  is  room  there,"  urged  the  girl  naively, 
pointing  to  an  inviting  niche  on  the  other  side 
of  the  little  cavern.  "  We  can  soon  gather  leaves 
enough  outside  to  make  you  a  bed." 

"It  wouldn't  be  proper,"  he  declared  de 
cisively. 

'What  is  this  'proper'?"  she  queried,  with 
Arcadian  simplicity. 

And  again  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  opened 
his  mouth  to  speak  and  perforce  stopped  to 
think  before  he  answered.  After  all,  what  was 
this  propriety  of  which  he  spoke,  and  how  far 
did  it  obtain  upon  this  desert  island?  Convention 
being  a  creature  of  human  environment,  to  what 
extent  did  its  rigid  and  rightful  rules  and  laws 
prevail  in  isolation?  Had  those  social  prescrip 
tions,  then,  any  force  inherent  in  themselves? 
Did  those  laws  and  customs  apply  to  one  man 
and  one  woman  alone  upon  an  island,  shut  off 
from  the  world?  Did  les  convenances  obtain  in 
Eden?  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  pulled  him 
self  together  with  a  shake  of  his  head.  He 
thought  he  understood  and  could  explain. 

"  The  world  —  '  he  began  confidently,  and 
[96] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

then  he  stopped  a  third  time,  for  he  found  his 
task  harder  than  he  had  anticipated,  after  all. 

What  was  he  about  to  say?  What  had  the 
world  to  do  with  them?  Could  its  call  reach 
them  across  a  thousand  leagues  of  unfrequented 
seas?  Did  its  writs  run  in  deserted  islands  in 
unexplored  oceans? 

The  girl  had  risen  with  him,  she  had  come 
closer  to  him  and  frankly  laid  her  hand  un 
suspiciously  and  in  sweet  abandon  upon  his  arm. 
There  he  stood,  his  arms  folded  across  his  breast, 
a  favorite  attitude  with  him,  reflecting  deeply. 
She  evidently  was  quite  anxious  to  know  why  he 
could  not  stay,  and  what  he  meant  by  "  proper," 
and  he  faced  a  growing  difficulty  in  definition. 

It  was  not  her  fault  that  she  had  the  mind  of 
a  child  in  the  body  of  a  woman;  it  was  not  her 
fault  that  her  mind  was  even  more  childish  than 
that  of  an  ordinary  ten-year-old  girl  (who  is  to 
day,  God  knows,  entirely  too  sophisticated),  for 
much  that  would  have  been  evident  to  such  an 
one  under  other  conditions  had  been  forgotten 
in  isolation.  She  would  awaken,  perhaps,  some 
day,  to  realization,  but  there  had  been  nothing  yet 

[97] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

in  her  life  to  arouse  and  develop  her  latent  con 
sciousness  of  right  and  wrong  upon  these  lines. 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  recognized  all  this 
and  wondered  vaguely  whether  such  develop 
ment  would  come  through  him  or  not.  He  had 
not  much  time,  however,  for  speculation,  for  a 
very  pressing  problem  confronted  him,  with 
which  he  must  deal  at  once  in  some  way. 

"  I  am  much  older  than  you,"  he  began  lamely 
enough,  in  his  perplexity. 

"Many  years?" 

"  Eight  or  nine,  I  should  judge,  but  hundreds 
of  years  older  in  experience  and  in  the  knowl 
edge  of  the  world." 

"And  what  is  the  world  to  us?" 

"  Nothing  now,  perhaps,  but  it  may  be  some 
time,  and  when  we  get  back  to  it  you  will  be 
glad,  that  —  In  short,  you  must  stay  at  this  end 
of  the  island  at  night  and  I  will  stay  below  there. 
I  can't  explain  it  to  you." 

"  I  do  not  see  why." 

"Whether  you  do  or  not,"  said  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland,  peremptorily,  "it  will  have 
to  be  as  I  say." 

The  girl  drew  herself  up,  ancient  race,  an- 
[98] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

cestral  pride  of  blood,  and  inherited  habit  of 
command  showing  in  her  face  and  bearing.  She 
had  been  absolutely  unrestrained  for  so  many 
years  that  she  had  forgotten  what  control  of  any 
kind  was  like.  She  resented  it  instinctively  with 
voice  and  bearing.  Neither  was  she,  a  child  for 
years  of  absolute  and  utter  freedom,  willing  to 
submit  to  any  other  than  her  own  will.  On  the 
other  hand,  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  was  an 
equally  resolved  and  determined  personality, 
and  when  he  had  decided  upon  a  course  of  action 
there  was  tremendous  fixity  about  him.  He 
could  not  easily  be  shaken  even  in  trifles;  and 
this  was  by  no  means  a  trifle,  for  the  future  of 
both  of  them  depended  on  his  firmness.  The 
two  looked  at  each  other.  Level  glance  met  level 
glance.  The  woman  first  gave  way  and  with  a 
gesture  and  movement  indicative  of  her  resent 
ment  and  disdain,  she  turned  from  him. 

"Go  your  way,"  she  said. 

"I  will  see  you  in  the  morning,"  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland  assured  her. 

"  If  you  can  find  me,  perhaps,"  was  the  petu 
lant  answer. 

The  man  laughed.  The  woman  sprang 
[99] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

in  front  of  him,  again,  her  hands  clasped,  her 
bosom  heaving,  anger  flaming  in  her  eyes  and 
cheeks.  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  stepped 
back  surprised  and  astonished  by  this  sudden 
display  of  passionate  temper. 

'You  laughed  at  me,"  cried  the  girl;  "you 
won't  do  what  I  want  you  to  —  you  make  me 
mind  you,  and  you  laugh." 

'You  will  thank  me  some  day  for  all  these 
things.  I  will  return  in  the  morning.  Good 
night,"  he  added  briefly  and  turned  away.  Be 
fore  he  passed  the  corner  of  the  rocky  path  that 
would  hide  him  from  view,  he  looked  back.  "  No 
prowling  around  me  at  night  as  before,"  he  said 
sternly. 

"I  would  rather  die  alone  than  look  at  you 
—  ever  again,"  answered  the  woman  tempestu 
ously. 

She  waited  until  he  had  gone,  and  then  she 
flung  herself  down  on  her  rude  leafy  couch  and 
burst  into  a  flood  of  rare  tears.  She  had  wept 
often  when  she  first  came  to  the  island,  but  those 
tears  had  been  long  forgotten,  and  for  years  she 
had  given  way  to  no  such  outburst  as  on  this 
night.  She  could  not  understand  why  she  wept, 

[100] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

either.  Her  small  body  shook  with  sobs,  the 
harder  to  bear  because  they  were  quite  unex- 
plainable.  The  key  to  the  solution  of  her  sor 
row  was  not  yet  in  her  possession;  some  day  she 
would  find  it,  and  with  it  open  mystic  doors  and 
go  through  them  into  other  lands.  Upon  what 
joy,  sorrow,  life,  death,  would  she  come  in  that 
other  world  beyond  the  surrounding  seas  of 
ignorance,  and  innocence,  seas  that  now  shut  her 
in,  like  the  ocean,  the  island? 

Divining  something  of  the  woman's  thoughts; 
alive  keenly  to  the  possibilities  of  the  situation; 
fully  aware  of  its  difficulties,  especially  since  they 
were  so  much  enhanced  by  the  absolute  innocence 
and  trust,  the  unaffected,  straightforward,  in 
genuous  simplicity  and  sincerity  of  his  new  com 
panion;  quite  resolved  to  do  his  whole  duty  in 
the  premises,  yet  realizing  with  a  shudder  of 
appreciation  how  difficult  that  duty  would  in 
evitably  become,  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  at 
last  reached  his  palm-tree  home.  He  was  con 
fronted  by  a  situation  the  like  of  which  his 
fondest  imagination  had  never  conjured  before 
his  vision. 

Here  upon  this  island,  alone  with  him,  dwelt 
[101] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

a  woman.  A  woman  with  a  child's  mind  and  a 
child's  soul,  but  in  all  other  things  not  at  all  a 
child.  And  with  possibilities  of  rapid  and  certain 
development  by  which  the  child's  mind  and  the 
child's  soul  would  be  turned  into  a  woman's 
mind  and  a  woman's  soul  in  a  moment,  to  fit  the 
woman's  body  and  the  woman's  power.  He  was 
absolutely  alone  upon  this  island  with  her,  and 
his  will  would  inevitably  be  her  will  also.  By 
her  own  testimony,  which  his  knowledge  cor 
roborated,  ships  rarely  visited  those  seas.  For 
a  time  unknown  the  sails  of  but  one  or  two  had 
whitened  the  distant  horizon  for  a  moment,  as 
they  passed  by  unnoticing. 

The  world  knew  nothing  of  them,  in  all  likeli 
hood  never  would  know  anything  of  them.  He 
could  do  what  he  would  with  that  child-woman! 
What  would  he  do? 

Never  for  a  moment  did  her  presence  displace 
the  recollection  of  his  wife.  However  charm 
ing  this  woodland  sprite,  she  could  in  no  way 
take  the  place  in  his  heart  of  the  woman  brave, 
splendid,  and  true  whom  he  had  loved  so  long, 
and  in  whose  possession  for  the  few  short  months 

[102] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

of  wifehood  he  had  found  happiness  sweeter 
than  his  every  hope  or  wildest  dream. 

As  he  thought  of  her  whom  he  had  loved  long 
since  and  lost  a  while,  he  groaned  aloud.  The 
island  was  so  lonely,  there  was  nobody  there  to 
note  or  mark  or  care  what  he  did.  He  threw 
himself  down  and  buried  his  face  in  his  hands. 
His  body  shook  with  emotion.  He  would  never 
see  her  again.  She  was  dead,  she  must  be  dead. 
He  wished  that  he,  too,  might  die,  that  his  life 
might  go  out  on  that  still  night,  on  that  island 
under  these  quiet  stars.  Why  had  one  been  taken, 
and  the  other  left?  For  him  also  to  live  was  Christ 
—  suffering  —  to  die  would  indeed  be  gain. 

"  Julia,  Julia,"  he  murmured,  in  low,  agonized, 
pathetic  whispers. 

4^id  yet  as  he  lay  there,  there  came  to  him 
another  thought;  life  always  held  some  duty  to 
be  done,  some  task  to  be  performed,  some  adven 
ture  to  be  achieved.  Suppose  his  selfish  prayers 
were  granted,  and  she  should  come  down  from 
her  aerie  on  the  morrow,  that  Spirit  of  the 
Island,  and  find  him  dead  upon  the  strand,  how 
terrible  would  be  her  situation!  While  no  one 

[103] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

had  ever  visited  the  island  she  had  been  ignorant 
of  what  human  companionship  meant,  she  had 
almost  grown  contented  in  her  isolation ;  but  now 
it  would  break  her  heart  if  he  should  die  and  leave 
her  alone  again  with  a  new  and  soul-crushing 
conception  of  solitude.  Had  he  a  right  to  con 
demn  her  to  that?  And  if  he  should  seek  her 
in  the  morning  and  find  her  gone  forever,  what 
would  he  feel?  He  must  live;  he  had  work  to 
do;  how  was  he  to  do  it? 

He  sat  up  again  and  took  further  thought  of 
the  situation.  Here  he  was  naked  and  defence 
less  on  this  island;  not  a  piece  of  metal  of  any 
sort  was  in  his  possession,  he  did  not  have  even 
so  much  as  a  pocket-knife.  How  he  craved  a 
piece  of  steel !  —  not  for  a  weapon  but  for  a  tool. 
There  was  nothing  whatever  on  the  island  that 
would  hurt  him;  any  harm  either  received  must 
come  from  the  other;  from  humanity,  not  nature. 
There  were  no  wild  beasts  on  the  island,  no  birds, 
even,  of  any  size.  There  was  nothing  out  of 
which  to  make  a  raft,  a  boat,  a  house  even. 

There  was  plenty  on  the  island  to  satisfy 
physical  needs.  From  reedy  grass  or  from  broad- 
leaved  plant  such  covering  for  their  nakedness  as 

[104] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

decency  required  could  easily  be  woven.  Of 
fruits,  nourishing  and  palatable,  there  was  an 
abundance  to  be  had  for  the  gathering.  He  did 
not  doubt  that  the  lagoon  abounded  with  shell 
fish,  and  perhaps  other  eatable  fish,  although  he 
had  no  hook  or  line  with  which  to  catch  them; 
nor  could  he  make  a  fire  by  which  to  cook  them. 
Fortunately,  there  was  an  unfailing  supply  of 
fresh  water. 

Having  food  and  drink  and  raiment,  could  he 
therewith  be  content?  If  he  only  could  have 
saved  something  from  that  wreck,  he  might  have 
done  something  with  it;  but  alas,  he  had  nothing 
but  his  own  two  naked  hands,  and  they  availed 
little. 

Nor  was  the  girl  of  the  island  in  any  better 
case.  He  had  spoken  of  helping  her  to  get  away 
from  their  prison ;  he  recognized  that  he  and  she 
were  marooned  on  that  island  and  there  was  no 
possibility  whatever  of  departure  therefrom  by 
their  own  unaided  efforts.  Ships  might  pass  in 
the  day  or  in  the  night;  unless  they  came  near 
enough,  so  that  human  beings  could  be  seen  from 
their  decks,  they  had  no  means  whatever  of  at 
tracting  attention.  There  was  no  way  of  making 

[105] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

a  fire,  for  instance,  that  he  could  compass  or 
devise. 

Life  had  been  so  rich,  so  full  for  him,  and 
now,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  he  had  been 
thrown  back  into  prehistoric  times,  with  the  brain 
of  his  day,  yet  with  no  escape  from  that  far-off 
past.  He  could  live  and  vegetate  like  a  denizen 
of  the  Stone  Age,  he  and  the  woman  together. 
Would  the  morals,  the  habits,  and  the  practices 
of  the  Stone  Age  supervene  ?  God  forbid !  Had 
the  Stone  Age  any  morals,  or  was  it  neither 
moral  nor  immoral,  simply  unmoral?  Would 
man  and  woman  mate  as  the  birds  of  the  air,  or 
the  beasts  of  forest  and  field  ?  God  forbid,  again ! 

Deep  down  in  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland's 
heart  was  a  vein  of  New  England  piety;  within 
his  breast  dwelt  the  New  England  conscience; 
in  his  mind  was  the  old  principle  noblesse  oblige. 
The  constraint  of  his  birth,  the  custom  of  his 
ancestry,  the  habit  of  his  rearing,  were  upon 
him;  they  made  him  strong.  He  would  remain, 
please  God,  a  Christian  sailor,  an  officer,  and  a 
gentleman. 

Ah,  though  naked  upon  a  desert  island,  he 
did  not  realize  that  even  there  it  takes  two  to 
[106] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

make  a  bargain,  and  that  even  the  weakest  and 
most  untutored  woman  must  be  counted  as  a 
decisive  factor  in  any  given  proposition  into 
which  she  enters  never  so  remotely.  Yet  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland  would  have  been  a  fool  had 
he  not  recognized  some  of  the  possibilities  of  his 
situation,  if  not  all  of  them.  He  would  be  a 
coward,  he  felt,  did  he  allow  circumstances  to 
control  him. 

Thrown  in  touch  with  a  nymph  or  a  dryad  of 
prehistoric  time,  absolutely  removed  from  human 
censure  or  applause,  from  human  restraint  or 
encouragement,  from  the  world  with  all  its  voices 
good  or  bad,  and  left  alone  with  an  utterly  igno 
rant,  wholly  innocent,  woman  on  his  hands,  could 
he  preserve  his  moral  integrity,  or  could  he  not? 

Of  old  temptation  entered  the  Garden  of 
Eden,  and  perhaps  Adam  spoke  more  wisely 
than  he  knew  when  he  laid  the  burden  of  his  fall 
upon  the  woman,  in  those  cowardly  and  evasive 
words  with  which  man,  proud  man,  has  en 
deavored  to  justify  himself  ever  since:  "The 
woman  tempted  me,  and  I  did  eat" 

Should  the  woman  tempt  him?  Should  he 
transgress  the  law  of  moral  well-being  and  enjoy 

[107] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

the  liberty  and  license  of  unrestraint?  Would 
some  Voice  Divine  in  this  island  Eden  call  him 
to  account?  Was  he  this  woman's  keeper? 
Would  there  be  visited  on  him,  indeed,  some 
mighty  penalty  for  failure  like  the  primeval 
sweat-bedewing  curse  upon  Adam's  face  from 
God's  hand?  Did  God  ever  walk  with  man  in 
this  South  Sea  paradise  in  the  cool  of  the  eve 
ning,  or  was  He  to  be  found  only  in  the  busy 
haunts  of  men? 

Upon  the  heights,  there,  the  woman  wakeful, 
restless,  for  the  first  time  in  years,  tossed  fever 
ishly  to  and  fro.  What  vague,  unrealized,  inco 
herent  dreams  were  hers?  This  godlike  figure 
that  had  commanded  her,  that  she  had  obeyed, 
that  promised  so  much,  that  was  so  wise,  who 
was  to  help  her,  and  whom  she  might  help  — 
what  should  she  learn  from  him?  What  would 
he  do  with  her?  Singular,  but  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye  she  realized  instantly  and  instinctively 
that  the  problem  would  be  that  way,  that  her 
freedom  was  gone,  that  her  fate  absolutely  de 
pended  upon  another. 

What  would  he  do  with  her?  She  could  not 
analyze  the  delicious  thrill  that  filled  her  heart, 

[108] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

as  she  formulated  that  thought.     What  would 
he  do  with  her,  indeed? 

Oh,  weak  and  feeble  woman!  Oh,  innocence 
so  childlike,  so  complete,  so  helpless,  so  absolute, 
so  overwhelming,  what  wilt  thou  in  thy  turn  do 
with  that  strong  man  upon  the  strand? 


[109] 


BOOK  III 
A  GREAT  PURPOSE 


CHAPTER  VIII 

IN   WHICH    THE   READER    HEARS  A   PITEOUS   CALL 
ACROSS  THE  SEAS 

BENEATH  a  blazing  sky  floats  heavily  a 
wave-blanched  boat  like  to  that  in  which 
Felicity  drifted  years  ago,  before  the  beginning 
of  this  story,  a  tiny  dot  upon  the  infinite  expanse 
of  a  wide  sea,  motionless  amid  a  vast  extension 
of  absolute  and  unrelieved  calm. 

Four  occupants  that  once  were  human  ten 
anted  that  frail  cockle-shell.  Four  others  in  the 
long  days  had  died,  and  the  survivors  had  cast 
them  quickly  overboard.  Of  the  four  left,  one 
lies  huddled  forward,  dead;  another  leans 
against  a  thwart,  dying ;  a  third,  an  old,  grizzled, 
gigantic  form  of  man  sits  aft,  holding  mechan 
ically  with  his  gaunt  fingers  a  steering  oar, 
instinct  apparently  moving  him  to  keep  it  fast. 
His  bloodshot  haggard  eyes  stare  forward  to 
ward  the  sky  line;  his  parched  lips  are  drawn 
as  it  were,  snarlingly,  back  over  his  clenched 
teeth ;  his  skin  is  ghastly  yellow ;  his  clothes  hang 
like  bags  on  his  gaunt  form.  Like  some  fierce 
animal  at  bay  he  sits  there.  He  moves  not,  he 

[111] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

speaks  not.  He  only  stares  and  stares  fixedly 
ahead. 

At  his  feet  and  reclining  against  him  is  some 
thing  that  tattered,  faded  clothes,  at  least,  pro 
claim  a  woman.  She,  too,  lies  huddled  in  a  heap, 
her  head  resting  against  the  man's  knee.  Her 
bright  hair,  no  longer  lustrous,  hangs  to  one  side 
in  a  tangled  mass;  her  eyes  are  shut;  she  looks 
as  one  dead,  save  for  a  slow,  labored  respiration. 

God  alone  knows  the  horrors  of  those  weeks 
in  that  open  boat.  He  alone  marked  the  awful 
struggle  to  keep  afloat  in  the  height  of  the  storm. 
He  alone  observed  them  day  by  day  measuring 
out  the  food,  reducing  it  to  the  veriest  morsel, 
until  it  was  all  gone,  and  with  it  the  last  drop  of 
water.  He  alone  watched  them  gnaw  the  leather 
of  their  shoes.  He  alone  saw  one  after  another 
die.  He  alone  noted  the  battle  for  the  remains 
of  the  woman's  life  and  honor  which  the  boats- 
swain  waged  with  the  maddest  and  the  most 
frantic  of  them  all.  He  alone  saw  the  self- 
sacrifice  of  that  great-hearted  old  sailor,  who  put 
by  his  own  portion  that  he  might  give  it  when 
all  the  rest  was  gone,  to  the  weaker  woman.  A 
rough  man,  but  with  a  mother's  heart. 

As  the  boatswain  had  fought  to  keep  the  others 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

away  from  her,  so  he  fought  to  keep  life  within 
her.  She  loathed  life;  she  had  lost  her  love, 
and  losing  that,  she  had  lost  all;  she  was  fain  to 
die.  He  would  not  have  it  so.  By  entreaty, 
cajolery,  and  at  last  by  force  he  made  her  eat 
and  drink.  He  kept  her  alive.  He  had  lived 
himself  without  food,  because  of  his  superhuman 
strength  and  hardihood;  but  his  powers  were  al 
most  spent,  he  could  do  nothing  more  for  him 
self,  nothing  more  for  the  woman. 

God,  who  had  observed  it  all,  had  done  noth 
ing  for  them  as  yet.  He  had  not  even  taken 
pity,  it  seemed.  And  the  brave  old  sailor  had 
fought  so  good  a  fight,  he  had  kept  the  faith  that 
Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  had  reposed  in  him 
as  a  man  might;  now  he  could  only  sit  and  stare 
seaward  and  wait  for  the  end. 

The  woman  stirred  uneasily  at  his  feet;  from 
between  her  lips  words  broke: 

"  Stephen !    Stephen !  "  —  that  was  all. 

It  was  a  word  the  boatswain  had  heard  a  great 
many  times  during  those  long  weeks,  but  he  bent 
to  hear  it  again,  perhaps  for  the  last  time. 

"  Stephen,"  came  hoarsely,  whisperingly  from 
those  cracked  lips.  "  Stephen!  Stephen!  "  again 
and  again  in  mournful  despairing  iteration. 

[113] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

Initiative  was  hard  for  a  man  in  the  last  ex 
tremity,  as  he  was.  The  boatswain's  head  hung 
down  upon  his  breast  where  he  had  dropped  it, 
his  eyes  looked  upon  her  dully,  almost  stupidly, 
yet  it  maddened  him  to  hear  over  and  over  that 
piteous,  monotonous  repetition  — 

"Stephen!    Stephen!" 

By  and  by  the  boat  swayed  gently,  the  burn 
ing  on  his  cheek  was  suddenly  cooled  —  a  breeze 
had  come.  The  sea,  which  had  lain  idle  after  the 
storm  had  spent  itself  for  God  alone  knew 
how  many  days,  was  suddenly  stirred;  its  leaden 
surface  became  blue;  there  was  a  sudden  sparkle 
of  white  life  on  the  crest  of  little  wavelets. 

On  the  horizon  a  cloud,  as  it  were  like  a  man's 
hand,  had  risen.  The  boatswain  watched  it 
passively,  yet  praying,  hoping  that  it  might 
spread.  By  and  by  it  filled  the  sky  and  then 
broke,  and  the  rain  came;  and  then  the  clouds 
passed  on  as  quickly  as  they  had  arisen.  The 
shower  had  come  too  late  for  the  man  dying  for 
ward,  his  spirit  had  gone  out  with  the  little 
storm;  but  it  had  come  in  time  to  save  the  boat 
swain's  life  and  the  life  of  the  woman.  She 
stirred  again  in  her  stupor.  Her  mouth  was 
open,  drinking  in  the  life-giving  water  and  every 

[114] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

pore  in  her  drenched  body  was  doing  the  same 
service  for  her.  Again  and  again  from  her  lips 
came  that  monotonous  word;  the  boatswain  al 
most  hated  it,  he  had  heard  it  so  often : 

"Stephen!    Stephen  I" 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland,  could  you  hear 
that  call  on  that  far-off  island? 

The  boatswain,  raising  his  head,  looked  away. 
The  rain  had  given  him  strength  to  appreciate 
his  agony  and  hers.  He  was  almost  sorry  it  had 
come.  Death  had  been  so  near.  Why  this  mock 
ery  of  resurrection?  For  what  reason  had  God's 
long  belated  mercy  been  bestowed  upon  them? 
He  looked  about  him  once  again.  He  had  kept 
negligent  watch,  and  there  before  him,  close 
enough  at  hand  for  him  to  see  the  black  lines  of 
her  hull,  rose  the  masts  and  sails  of  a  ship  I 

His  bosom  for  the  moment  stopped  its  labored 
rise  and  fall;  the  steering  oar  was  reased  at  last; 
the  gaunt  hands  of  the  man  sought  the  gunwales 
of  the  boat  on  either  side;  he  gripped  them  hard 
and  harder,  and  stared  with  an  intensity  sudden 
and  terrible.  Could  it  be  a  ship  at  last,  or  was 
he  going  mad  like  the  rest,  and  conjuring  up  in 
his  mind  this  salvation? 

As  he  looked,  the  vessel  grew  larger;  it  was 
[115] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

no  disorderly  hallucination,  no  dream,  but  real. 
He  tried  to  collect  his  scattered  senses.  He  saw 
that  she  was  sailing  by  them  with  her  port  tacks 
aboard;  he  realized,  with  a  sailor's  instinct,  be 
ing  almost  too  far  gone  for  reason,  that  if  she 
did  not  change  her  course,  if  those  on  board  her 
did  not  see  the  whaleboat,  if  seeing  her  they  did 
not  have  hearts  of  men  and  would  not  come  to 
seek  her,  it  would  be  all  over;  neither  he  nor  the 
woman  could  exist  another  day. 

This  was  the  first  ship  they  had  seen  in  the 
long  weeks  of  waiting:  he  had  thought  there 
would  never  be  any  other  in  those  deserted  seas. 
The  boatswain  had  not  believed  that  he  any 
longer  possessed  a  heart,  so  empty  had  been  his 
bosom;  but  now  it  beat  and  throbbed  so  that  it 
was  like  to  choke  him.  If  he  could  only  cry 
aloud,  if  he  could  only  rise  to  his  feet!  But  he 
could  do  nothing  but  sit  and  listen  to  the  wo 
man  from  time  to  time  muttering  ever  the  same 
words  — 

"Stephen!    Stephen!" 

Oh,  could  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  hear 
that  call? 

But  while  the  boatswain  stared  and  prayed 
voicelessly,  something  happened  on  board  the 

[116] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

ship;  she  reached  up  into  the  wind,  her  head 
sails  shivered,  her  mainyard  was  swung.  The 
sound  of  a  sailor's  chanty  came  faintly  down  the 
wind.  They  had  been  seen,  the  ship  was  headed 
toward  them. 

Rescue!    Salvation!    Thank  God! 

The  boatswain  loosened  his  grasp  on  the  gun 
wales  ;  he  bent  down  slowly  and  painfully ;  he  laid 
his  hand  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  woman;  he 
shook  her  tenderly  with  trembling  arm. 

"  Mrs.  Cleveland,"  he  said  hoarsely,  in  a 
ghastly  whisper,  "  wake  up,  ma'am,  there  's  a 
ship ;  we  're  saved." 

And  again  from  the  lips  of  the  woman  mad, 
unheeding,  came  that  hollow  voice  murmuring, 
as  ever: 

"Stephen!    Stephen!" 

Oh,  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland,  why  can  you 
not  hear  that  wild,  that  passionate  appeal,  the 
ultimate  expression  of  a  human  heart  that  loved 
you? 


[117] 


CHAPTER  IX 

HOW    ONE    COMES    BACK    THROUGH    THE 
GOLDEN    GATE   ALONE 

THE  ship  approaching  proved  to  be  the 
whaler  Susan  and  Jane  of  New  Bedford, 
six  months  out  from  her  home  port,  and  bound 
on  a  cruise  through  Behring's  Strait  to  the  Arctic 
Seas,  after  sperm.  Her  master,  one  Derby 
Crowninshield,  was  well  known  to  old  Foresman, 
the  big  boatswain  of  the  Swiftsure.  He  and 
Julia  Cleveland  were  the  only  living  people  in 
the  whaleboat,  the  other  man  having  joined  his 
dead  fellow  just  before  the  rain  came. 

As  the  Susan  and  Jane  rounded  to,  close 
aboard  them,  even  the  iron  soul  of  the  boatswain 
gave  way;  he  was  alike  past  speech  and  past 
action,  utterly  incapable  of  explanation.  Captain 
Crowninshield  was  a  man  of  experience,  however, 
and  a  glance  put  him  in  possession  of  the  essen 
tial  facts ;  after  the  first  unanswered  hail  he  asked 
no  questions.  He  realized  that  the  boatswain 

[118] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

was  too  weak  even  to  catch  and  make  fast  a  line ; 
smartly,  therefore,  he  dropped  one  of  his  own 
boats  overboard,  and  in  a  few  minutes  she  hauled 
the  other  boat  alongside  the  ship.  As  the  quick 
est  means  of  disposing  of  the  proposition,  and 
because  even  though  she  was  in  bad  condition  a 
whaleboat  would  always  come  in  handy  on  the 
long  cruises,  Captain  Crowninshield  hooked  the 
falls  to  the  Swiftsure's  boat,  and  ran  her  up  to 
the  davits  of  the  Susan  and  Jane.  For  the  fierce 
cachalots  often  destroyed  boats  with  their  power 
ful  tails,  and  sometimes  crushed  them  into 
splinters  between  their  awful  jaws.  It  was  an 
easy  matter  for  hands  rude  yet  tender  to  pass 
in-board  the  woman  and  the  man. 

There  was  a  homelike  appearance  to  the  clean 
decks  of  the  squat,  bluff -bowed,  stumpy-masted 
old  whaler,  for  Captain  Derby  Crowninshield 
had  on  board  with  him  Susan  his  wife,  and  little 
Jane  his  daughter  —  hence  the  name  of  his  ship; 
but  the  dirtiest  collier  would  have  been  a 
heavenly  haven  after  the  whaleboat.  Mrs. 
Crowninshield,  her  womanly  sympathy  stirred 
and  her  motherly  activities  quickened  by  the  sad 
plight  of  her  forlorn  sister,  at  once  took  charge 

[119] 


of  Julia  Cleveland,  while  the  whaler's  boatswain 
and  one  or  two  of  the  harpooneers  busied  them 
selves  with  the  boatswain  of  the  Swiftsure,  who 
was  made  comfortable  in  one  of  the  spare  cabins 
of  the  whaler.  Julia  was  given  the  mate's  room, 
that  officer  gladly  turning  out  and  doubling  up 
for  the  time  being  with  one  of  his  juniors. 

While  these  arrangements  were  being  made, 
the  Swiftsure's  whaleboat  was  taken  from  the 
davits  and  placed  amidships  on  the  Susan  and 
Jane,  the  two  bodies  it  contained  being  carefully 
lifted  up  and  presently  prepared  for  burial  by 
being  sewn  up  in  weighted  hammocks.  The 
other  boat  was  next  hoisted  into  its  accustomed 
place,  and  the  ship  filled  away  on  her  course. 
Her  first  stop  would  be  Honolulu,  something 
like  fifteen  hundred  leagues  to  the  northeast;  but 
before  she  reached  there,  her  captain  intended 
to  do  a  deal  of  random  cruising  in  the  hope  on 
the  way  of  getting  his  "irons"  into  some  of  the 
big  "fish"  he  was  after. 

About  all  that  he  gleaned  from  the  human 
flotsam  he  had  picked  up  that  afternoon,  was 
that  they  were  the  sole  survivors  of  the  clipper 
Swftsure,  burned  at  sea;  that  the  man  was  the 

[120] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

boatswain  thereof,  and  the  woman  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland's  wife. 

The  next  morning,  however,  the  boatswain  had 
sufficiently  recovered  to  participate  in  the  burial 
of  the  two  men,  who  were  reverently  launched 
into  the  deep,  as  Captain  Crowninshield  read  the 
service.  Later,  the  old  man  brokenly  told  his 
rescuer  the  necessary  details  of  the  awful  trag 
edy  through  which  they  had  gone.  Captain 
Crowninshield,  though  an  old  man,  had  known 
Captain  Stephen  Cleveland,  and  he  had  been  a 
good  friend  of  the  family  of  the  captain's  wife. 
He  was  deeply  touched  by  the  unfortunate  posi 
tion  in  which  Julia  Cleveland  found  herself; 
and  he  told  the  boatswain,  whose  fidelity  and 
devotion  he  heartily  commended,  that  he  was 
glad  to  offer  the  two  asylum  on  his  ship  for 
so  long  a  time  as  they  chose  to  avail  themselves 
of  it. 

He  would  land  them  in  Honolulu  in  due  course, 
or  if  they  wished  it,  transfer  them  to  any  home 
ward  bound  vessel  they  might  overhaul,  which 
would  give  them  a  better  chance  of  reaching  the 
United  States  the  sooner.  He  offered  to  sign 
on  the  boatswain  and  give  him  a  generous  "lay" 
[121] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

in  his  own  ship  if  he  would  make  the  cruise  with 
him.  But  Foresman  refused  this. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  he,  "  Cap'n  Stephen  Cleveland 
placed  his  lady  in  my  charge;  I  can't  do  any 
thing  else  until  I  git  her  home  to  her  friends, 
thankin'  ye  kindly  jest  the  same,  sir." 

Captain  Crowninshield  could  not  but  approve 
this  resolution.  However,  the  boatswain,  so 
soon  as  he  was  able  for  duty,  volunteered  and 
offered  to  do  a  seaman's  work  so  long  as  he  was 
aboard  the  Susan  and  Jane,  and  for  that  Cap 
tain  Crowninshield  promised  him  liberal  pay; 
also,  he  bought  the  whaleboat  from  the  boatswain 
at  a  high  value,  on  Julia  Cleveland's  account. 

That  poor  lady  was  in  no  condition  to  transact 
that  or  any  other  business.  Under  the  careful 
nursing  of  the  captain's  wife,  she  recovered  her 
physical  well  being  in  a  reasonable  time;  indeed, 
her  recuperation  was  the  more  rapid  in  that  she 
was  not  distracted  by  any  recollection  of  what 
she  had  gone  through  or  what  she  had  lost;  for 
reason  did  not  come  back  with  health.  She  was 
as  gentle  and  as  tractable  as  she  was  beautiful. 
Indeed,  there  was  a  strange  softness  and  an  un 
wonted  tenderness  in  her  demeanor.  She  had 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

been  a  very  independent  and  able  woman  in  her 
normal  condition,  which  made  her  docility  in  her 
madness  the  more  surprising. 

There  she  sits  quietly,  leaning  against  the  rail, 
staring  out  to  sea  with  a  meaningless,  vacant 
gaze.  There  was  but  one  reasonable  thing  in  her 
otherwise  aimless  actions:  she  always  stared 
southward.  What  dim  light  of  recollection 
breaking  through  her  shadows  invariably  turned 
her  otherwise  aimless  gaze  in  that  direction? 

Questions  elicited  no  answer.  Once  in  a  while 
there  broke  from  her  lips  those  familiar  words 
which  the  boatswain  had  heard  so  often,  and 
hated,  in  the  small  boat,  but  which  now  in  some 
strange  way  he  loved  to  hear  on  the  ship,  per 
haps  because  there  was  now  no  mournful  note  in 
them  —  only  the  love  call  of  a  bird  to  its  mate: 

"Stephen!    Stephen!" 

She  speaks  softly  now,  lingering  upon  the 
name;  sometimes  a  little  smile  plays  about  her 
lips,  as  she  calls  the  man  she  loved  and  loves.  It 
seems  that  the  sole  evidence  of  intelligence  which 
she  can  now  give  is  to  pronounce  over  and  over 
again  that  cherished,  beloved  name,  and  to  look 
always  to  the  South  Seas.  Perhaps  she  speaks 

[123] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

it  unconsciously  that  it  may  pass  from  her  heart 
to  a  smaller  heart  now  beating  beneath  her  own, 
and  of  which  as  yet  she  knows  nothing. 

And  what  would  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland 
feel  if  he  could  only  see  or  know?  If  he  could 
only  hear  that  faint,  low  voice,  last  expression 
of  devotion,  murmuring  over  and  over  again  his 
name?  If  he  could  only  see  the  woman  he  loved 
and  lost  and  yet  will  love  on  forever,  the  color 
again  radiant  in  her  cheek,  the  light  once  more 
shining  in  her  bright  hair,  speaking  his  name, 
staring  with  eyes  that  see  not,  listening  with  ears 
that  hear  not?  If  he  could  only  know  of  that 
smaller  heart  beating  beneath  the  greater  heart 
of  the  woman,  and  both  of  them  his  own? 

But,  alas!  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  paces 
restlessly  up  and  down  the  distant  shore  raging 
with  all  a  man's  furious  impatience  against  the 
hopeless  impotency  of  his  position.  He  finds 
little  solace  or  comfort  in  the  beautiful  maiden 
who  watches  him  wistfully,  who  would  fain  walk 
ever  by  his  side,  whose  heart  goes  out  to  him  with 
a  passion  and  a  fire  and  an  adoration,  the  more 
overwhelming  since  there  is  but  one  man  in  the 
world  for  her.  And  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland 
[124] 


who  loves  her  not,  who  will  not,  can  not,  love 
her,  ever,  is  that  man. 

Six  months  later,  the  voyage  having  been 
considerately  shortened  somewhat  at  last  by  the 
necessities  of  Julia  Cleveland's  condition,  the 
lumbering  old  Susan  and  Jane  dropped  anchor 
in  the  beautiful  harbor  of  Honolulu.  With  the 
money  he  had  earned  and  what  he  had  received 
from  the  sale  of  the  whaleboat,  something  like 
six  hundred  dollars  in  his  pocket,  the  boatswain 
took  the  captain's  wife  ashore.  A  faithful  mis 
sionary  and  his  wife  having  heard  their  story, 
opened  a  home  to  them.  The  boatswain,  who  had 
aged  terribly  from  his  experiences  and  in  the 
face  of  his  new  responsibilities,  parted  from  his 
friends  with  great  regret,  although  to  Julia  no 
parting  or  meeting  seemed  to  matter  at  all. 
Captain  Crowninshield  and  his  wife  Susan  and 
his  little  girl  Jane  were  very  sorry  indeed  to 
see  the  woman  they  had  rescued  from  the  jaws 
of  death  leave  them;  for  they  had  grown  quite 
used  to  her  fair  presence,  to  the  gentle  murmur 
of  the  lips  which  spoke  from  her  heart  those 
words  never  very  long  unsaid: 

"Stephen!    Stephen!" 
[125] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

A  week  later,  to  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland, 
mariner,  cast  away  by  the  sea  upon  a  lonely  Pa 
cific  island,  and  naturally  believed  to  be  dead 
by  those  who  thought  of  him  at  all,  and  to  his 
wife  Julia,  alone  among  strangers  upon  another 
island  far  away,  yet  washed  by  the  waters  of  the 
same  great  sea,  is  born  a  son. 

How  often  is  such  gift  of  life  followed  by 
death !  How  many  times  does  the  life  pass  from 
mother  into  child,  and  as  the  one  comes  the  other 
goes!  The  event  in  this  instance  was  contrary 
and  fate  played  a  cross  purpose;  for  it  was  the 
child  who  died,  and  not  the  mother.  He  lived 
long  enough  for  his  first  cries  to  pierce  the  dull 
hollow  of  the  woman's  ears  and  awaken  her  to 
life,  for  the  first  time  since  that  awful  night  when 
she  had  seen  the  Swiftsure,  rising  and  falling,  now 
bright,  now  dark,  across  the  troubled  seas.  At 
once  recollection,  memory,  rushed  back  to  Julia 
Cleveland  and  overwhelmed  her.  Upon  her  bed 
of  pain  she  knew  all.  She  looked  into  the  face 
of  the  child  she  had  brought  into  the  world,  and 
saw  in  its  tiny  features  the  image  of  her  husband; 
and  then  the  little  voice  was  stilled,  and  the  little 
soul  went  out  into  the  night  or  the  morning. 

[126] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

The  baby  dying  had  broken  her  heart,  but  dy 
ing  he  had  restored  her  mind.  Again  from  her 
lips,  but  this  time  with  all  the  passion  in  a 
woman's  heart,  burst  that  bitter  cry: 

"Stephen!    Stephen!" 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland,  oh,  could  you  not 
hear  that  appeal?  Could  not  the  tiny  voice  of 
the  babe  that  under  other  conditions  and  happier 
circumstances  would  have  clung  to  his  mother's 
breast  for  you  to  see,  reach  you?  Playing  with 
Felicity  on  the  sand,  striving  for  contentment, 
fain  to  crush  out  all  recollections  on  that  lonely, 
desolate  shore,  could  you  not  hear? 

The  pre-natal  voyage  of  life  had  been  too 
much  for  him  that  was  to  have  been  another 
Stephen  Cleveland,  and  now  with  returning 
reason  bade  fair  to  be  too  much  for  the  new 
mother.  With  mind  restored  and  recollection 
returned,  the  ministering  friends  feared  for  the 
life  of  Julia  Cleveland.  But  youth,  strength, 
a  faint  hope,  a  consuming  desire,  finally  tri 
umphed  after  months  of  suffering. 

The  woman,  clothed  and  in  her  right  mind,  at 
last  stood  on  the  deck  of  a  ship  bound  for  San 
Francisco,  and  watched  fade  away  into  the  dis- 
[127] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

tance  the  faint  vision  of  the  Hawaiian  shore. 
The  old  boatswain  was  with  her.  He  had  been 
her  greatest  comforter  in  his  rude  and  rough 
way.  She  had  learned  how  he  had  watched  over 
and  protected  her;  she  had  extracted  from  his 
unwilling  lips,  by  careful  questioning,  the  whole 
story  of  his  sacrifice — how  he  had  starved  him 
self  that  she  might  eat ;  what  had  happened  on  the 
Susan  and  Jane;  how  he  had  unhesitatingly  re 
fused  the  advantages  offered  by  Captain  Crown- 
inshield,  in  order  that  he  might  discharge  his 
duty  to  fyer;  how  he  had  resolved  to  devote  him 
self  entirely  to  her  so  long  as  she  might  have  need 
of  his  services. 

He  was  an  old  man,  this  William  Foresman, 
old  enough  to  be  her  grandfather;  indeed,  he  had 
sailed  with  Captain  Pellew,  her  own  father,  as  a 
young  man  many  years  before.  He  had  no  ties, 
no  family,  nothing  to  take  him  away  from  her 
side.  The  fact  that  she  had  been  committed  to 
him  by  her  husband,  her  long  period  of  helpless 
ness,  the  birth  and  death  of  the  little  son,  the 
sorrow  in  her  heart,  had  also  touched  him  in  a 
strange  sort  of  a  way ;  and  the  old  sailor,  beneath 
whose  rough  exterior  a  tender  tide  of  life  flowed, 

[128] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

firmly  resolved  to  give  her  everything  he  had, 
so  long  as  she  might  have  need  of  him.  And 
Julia  Cleveland  accepted  his  devotion  gratefully. 

She  had  come  to  a  definite  resolution  during 
her  long  convalescence;  she  needed  the  boat 
swain's  assistance,  and,  engrossed  by  her  desires 
and  her  intention,  she  accepted  it  without  hesita 
tion.  There  was  a  kind  of  noble  selfishness  in 
her  attitude  toward  him,  or  toward  any  other 
man  or  woman  who  might  be  of  service  to  her. 
But  it  was  a  selfishness  that  was  begot  of  her 
great  love  and  her  determination  not  to  accept 
her  husband's  death  as  a  fact,  until  the  failure  of 
an  undertaking  which  she  intended  to  prosecute 
with  all  her  life  should  convince  her  beyond  per- 
adventure  that  he  had  indeed  gone  down  that 
night  with  his  ship. 

Many  a  time  she  had  talked  the  situation  over 
with  the  boatswain,  who  had  no  hope  whatever 
that  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  had  survived. 
Every  probability  was  against  it.  The  dictum 
of  experience  was  convincing  as  to  the  folly  of 
cherishing  such  a  belief,  yet  the  boatswain  could 
not  deny  that  there  was  just  a  bare  possibility 
that  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  had  not  been 

[129] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

burned  up  before  the  rain  might  have  saved  him 
from  that  death.  The  crazy  hulk  might  have 
survived  the  storm,  which  —  but  for  the  fact  that 
it  was  a  lifeboat,  and  because  of  his  own  skill 
and  strength  and  the  incessant  toil  of  the  men 
at  the  oars  —  would  certainly  have  overwhelmed 
the  whaleboat. 

If  the  wreck  of  the  Swiftsure  floated  after 
that  storm,  and  if  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland 
were  still  alive,  he  might  have  been  picked  up  as 
they  had  been  by  some  passing  vessel.  Yet  the 
boatswain,  judging  from  what  he  could  recollect 
of  the  latitude  and  longitude  of  the  disaster, 
urged  that  that  was  well  nigh  impossible,  there 
being  few  or  no  vessels  trading  in  those  seas. 

Failing  that  chance  the  hulk  might  have  been 
blown  or  drifted  upon  some  unknown  desert 
island  in  those  unfrequented  parts  of  the  Pacific, 
and  he  might  still  be  there.  But  the  sum  of  all 
these  chances  that  he  was  alive  amounted  to  only 
the  faintest  possibility.  The  odds  against  it  were 
millions  to  one  —  but  that  one  chance  was  enough 
for  a  love  and  a  determination  like  those  of  Julia 
Cleveland. 

Here  she  was,  then,  a  young  wife  or  widow,  she 
[130] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

knew  not  which,  practically  penniless,  approach 
ing  San  Francisco,  in  which  she  could  count 
on  the  possibility  of  only  one  friend,  Hampton 
Ellison.  Does  the  gentle  reader  not  remem 
ber  him?  She  would  be  three  thousand  miles 
by  land  from  her  own  home,  which  was  no  longer 
home  to  her,  since  her  mother  had  died,  and  where 
she  had  no  living  relatives.  If  she  attempted 
to  reach  that  home,  another  sea  voyage  around 
the  Horn  would  be  required,  or  else  a  cruise  down 
the  coast,  a  passage  across  the  Isthmus,  and 
thence  through  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  and  the  At 
lantic;  which  would  be  expensive  and  more  or 
less  purposeless,  for  the  continent  was  not  then 
banded  with  steel. 

What  could  she  hope  for  when  she  got  back 
to  Salem?  Sympathy  perhaps;  but  she  must 
earn  her  daily  bread,  and  the  proposition  to  re 
turn  there  and  barely  earn  it  did  not  fill  her  in 
tention,  or  measure  up  to  her  ambition  in  the 
least  degree.  For  Julia  Cleveland  intended  to 
make  money  enough  in  some  way  to  buy  or 
charter  a  ship,  to  provision  her  for  an  indefinite 
cruise  to  the  South  Seas,  there  to  search  for  her 
husband  —  if  she  did  not  hear  from  him  before 

[131] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

— until  she  found  him,  or  until  every  island  in 
the  vast  archipelago  had  been  visited  and  the 
search  shown  to  be  vain. 

She  was  as  beautiful  as  before,  and  in  years 
as  young;  but  grief,  suffering,  bereavement,  had 
changed  the  woman  outwardly  and  inwardly. 
The  spirit  of  a  high  purpose,  of  a  great  quest, 
was  upon  her;  something  supernal  in  her  soul 
was  added  to  her;  a  new  and  rare  beauty  that 
might  have  brought  the  world  to  her  feet,  had 
she  cared  to  see  it  there. 

And  so  she  came  back  as  she  had  gone  forth, 
through  the  Golden  Gate.  Alas !  its  radiance  was 
dimmed  by  what  had  occurred  between  the  exit 
and  the  entrance.  She  stepped  ashore  at  San 
Francisco,  young,  inexperienced,  penniless, 
friendless  but  for  one  old  man  as  unversed  in 
the  ways  of  the  world  almost  as  she.  It  was  to 
be  years  before  she  passed  out  of  that  Golden 
Gate  again,  following  her  hope,  bound,  though 
she  realized  it  not,  to  that  far-off  island  where 
Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  stood  waiting  with 
little  Felicity  on  the  strand. 


[132] 


CHAPTER  X 

WHEREIN   THE   LONG   EFFORT   BRINGS   SUCCESS   TO 
ONE,  FAILURE  TO  THE  OTHER 

WERE  this  a  story  of  adventure  merely,  I 
might  dilate  upon  Julia  Cleveland's  life 
for  the  next  three  years.  I  might  set  forth  some 
account  of  her  doings  in  that  strange  new  land 
filled  with  rude  men  seeking  fortune  in  rough 
ways.  I  might  disclose  her  sufferings,  her  disap 
pointments,  her  failures.  I  might  tell  you  who 
loved  her,  who  helped  her,  who  hindered  her,  who 
sought  to  harm  her,  who  encouraged  her. 

I  might  write  of  the  bitterness  of  hope  de 
ferred,  of  the  long  hours  of  despair,  of  the  temp 
tation  to  give  up  the  struggle,  of  the  renewal  of 
the  battle.  I  might  picture  the  depths  into  which 
she  was  plunged,  the  height  to  which  her  love 
lifted  her.  I  could  show  how  her  indomitable 
purpose  sustained  her,  and  how  she  fought  on 
alone,  save  for  the  old  boatswain,  —  little  more 
than  a  protection  now,  —  striving  to  wrest,  as 

[133] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

others  did,  treasure  from  the  hills,  matching  her 
woman's  wit  and  her  divine  perseverance  against 
man's  superior  strength  and  skill. 

Alone  until  she  met  Ellison! 

But  this  is  not  a  story  of  adventure.  Its 
interest  to  me  is  subjective,  not  objective.  The 
Kingdom  of  God,  it  was  said  by  the  Wisest  and 
Best,  is  within  us!  Environment  is  but  a  circum 
stance.  Out  of  human  hearts  proceed  the  inter 
ests  of  this  veracious  chronicle;  therefore  I  pass 
over  these,  to  me,  unmeaning  details  of  all  her 
labors  that  she  had  taken  under  the  sun  and 
shadow  alike  during  this  long  period.  And  I 
present  this  New  England  wife  to  you  at  the 
climax  and  end  of  her  efforts  in  the  great  cause 
to  which  she  had  dedicated  youth,  beauty, 
strength,  love  —  herself. 

Picture,  if  you  will,  a  lonely  canon  rived  out 
of  a  great  mountain.  The  time  is  sunset,  and  the 
land  is  California,  so  far  from  Captain  Stephen 
Cleveland's  island.  A  small  camp  had  been 
pitched  down  the  mountain  by  the  side  of  a  rush 
ing  brook,  which  babbled  and  purled  in  merry 
clatter  along  its  tortuous  and  rocky  way.  By  the 
side  of  the  tent  an  old  man  sat  smoking,  quietly 

[134] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

meditating.  Among  the  trees  facing  the  setting 
sun,  by  the  side  of  another  brook  deep  within  the 
canon  higher  up,  a  man  and  a  woman,  their  heads 
close  together,  bent  low  over  a  pan  in  which 
something  had  been  washed.  Pick  and  shovel 
lay  beside  them. 

If  he  was  a  fine  specimen  of  young  manhood, 
what  shall  be  said  of  the  woman?  She  was  very 
tall  and  splendid,  with  length  of  limb  that  betok 
ened  race,  and  grace  of  bearing  that  bespoke 
breeding;  with  sunlit  hair  and  eyes  of  truth  and 
beauty;  with  every  line  of  her  figure,  in  spite  of 
its  mean  poor  garments,  exhibiting  the  struggle 
between  grace  and  strength.  Purity,  sweetness, 
light,  radiated  from  her  person.  Pride  and  free 
dom,  royal  will  and  stubborn  determination,  were 
in  her  bearing;  and  in  her  face  disappointment 
unutterable. 

"  It  is  no  use,  Julia,"  said  the  man  straighten 
ing  up  and  throwing  the  contents  of  the  pan 
away.  "  There  is  nothing."  He  pitched  the  ves 
sel  to  one  side  as  he  spoke,  and  stepped  nearer 
to  her.  '  Why  not  give  up?  He  was  my  friend; 
I  respected  and  loved  him;  he  gave  me  a  new 
start  in  life  when  he  met  me  here  four  years  ago, 

[135] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

*  grub-staked  '  me,  as  they  say  out  here ;  but  he  is 
certainly  dead.  You  have  given  to  so  many  ships 
tidings  of  his  loss,  and  search  has  been  made  by 
every  vessel  that  has  touched  San  Francisco,  or 
Honolulu,  or  Japan,  in  the  past  three  years.  All 
up  and  down  the  Pacific  seas  he  has  been  looked 
for,  and  no  tidings  of  him  has  ever  come  to  you." 

"  Not  one  word,"  admitted  the  woman  reluc 
tantly.  "  It  has  been  one  long  period  of  agonized 
disappointment;  I  have  worked  so  hard,  I  have 
struggled  so  desperately!  At  first  I  begged  and 
starved,  and  then  you  came  and  helped  me.  We 
have  gone  out  together  to  try  to  find  gold  in 
these  hills,  and  now  we  have  failed." 

'Yes,"  said  the  man,  "but  you  have  made  a 
brave  and  honest  try.  Now  give  it  up!  I  love 
you!  Don't  start  back!  Surely  there  is  no 
treachery,  there  can  be  no  wrong  in  that.  No 
man  could  be  with  you  as  I  have  been,  and  not 
love  you,  —  you  have  been  so  alone." 

"  Foresman  was  there,"  interrupted  the  woman. 

"  Yes,  God  bless  him  for  a  true  brave  heart,  the 

like  of  which  there  are  not  many  in  the  world ;  but 

he  is  an  old  man,  —  he  must  soon  go,  —  and 

my  love  is  young.    I  know,  I  quite  realize,  that  I 

[136] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

am  not  such  a  man  as  Stephen  Cleveland;  there 
are  few  men  like  him.  I  know  that  you  could 
never  care  for  me  as  you  did  for  him.  But  you 
can't  go  on  this  way;  it  isn't  right  for  you  to 
throw  away  your  life,  to  give  all  that  might  be 
in  it  for  the  dead.  Give  me  a  chance.  I  have 
loved  you  ever  since  I  found  you  almost  starv 
ing  in  San  Francisco,  ever  since  you  came  into 
my  life." 

"  With  poor  old  Foresman  sick  in  the  one  spot 
we  could  call  home,"  murmured  the  woman, 
her  thoughts  reverting  to  that  nadir  of  her  for 
tune. 

'  Yes,  and  I  have  stayed  to  help  you  since  then. 
I  have  had  other  opportunities,  but  I  have  put 
them  aside  to  serve  your  purpose." 

'  You  have  indeed  been  very  kind  to  us." 

"I  don't  want  anything  on  that  account;  I 
only  mention  it  to  show  you  that  I  was  faithful. 
I  have  earnestly  fought  to  help  you  into  the  arms 
of  another  man,  if  it  were  possible  that  he  might 
be  alive.  You  don't  know  what  agony  it  has 
been.  I  am  from  North  Carolina,  and  our  blood 
runs  hotter  down  there  than  in  your  colder  North. 
I  have  kept  it  down,  but  now  it  all  has  to  come 
[137] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

out.    Can't  you  see,  can't  you  realize,  what  you 
are  to  me?" 

"I  have  been  blind,"  said  the  woman,  almost 
in  a  daze,  "  but  I  see  it  now.  I  might  have  seen 
it  before,  but  I  was  thinking  of  some  one  else." 

"  You  were  cherishing,  living  on,  a  hope,  which 
I  do  solemnly  believe  before  God  and  man  has  no 
foundation.  Ask  Boatswain  Foresman  yonder, 
ask  any  one.  If  he  had  been  picked  up,  he  would 
have  come  back  to  you.  It  was  n't  possible  for 
him  to  escape.  He 's  dead,  I  know  it.  But  think 
now  of  the  living.  Let  me  take  you ;  be  my  wife ; 
let  me  devote  myself  to  you!  You  are  young, 
years  are  before  you.  For  God's  sake,  Julia!" 

The  woman  shook  her  head,  awake  now  to  the 
necessity  for  silencing  the  passionate  importunity 
of  this  wooing. 

"  Hampton,"  she  answered  simply,  "  I  can't  do 
it." 

"Don't  say  that/*  he  pleaded,  struggling 
against  the  finality  in  her  voice. 

"  Before  God  I  married  that  man,  I  gave  my 
self  willingly  to  him  until  death  parted  us." 

"  But  he  is  dead,  —  you  are  parted." 

"  I  don't  know  it,  and  I  won't  believe  it." 
[138] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"And  if  he  were?" 

The  woman  hesitated.  Hampton  Ellison  was  a 
wooer  over  whom  any  woman  might  hesitate. 

"If  he  had  been  dead  you  would  have  mar 
ried  me,  I  am  sure,"  he  persisted.  "  Would  you 
not  —  " 

"No,"  answered  Julia  Cleveland  softly. 
"  God  forgive  me  for  hurting  you ;  I  can't  bear 
to  do  it.  If  I  could  give  my  life  to  promote  your 
happiness,  I  would  n't  hesitate  to  do  it.  But  that 
isn't  saying  much,"  she  went  on,  "since  life  for 
me  without  Stephen  Cleveland  is  nothing.  All 
these  years  since  that  moment  he  fell  back  into 
the  flames,  when  I  watched  with  straining  eyes 
the  light  from  that  ship  rise  and  fall,  when  I  saw 
it  go  out  and  come  back  again,  I  have  had  but 
one  idea,  one  hope,  one  dream.  That  was  to  go 
back  and  hunt  for  him,  to  search  the  seas,  to 
explore  island  after  island  where  he  might  have 
found  a  refuge,  and  where  he  might  be  now 
eating  his  heart  out,  looking  across  the  empty 
waves  for  me,  for  the  wife  whom  I  know  he 
would  never  forget." 

O  Felicity,  Felicity,  thou  little  knowest  what 
thou  hast  done! 

[139] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"But  he  is  dead,  he  must  be  dead,"  he  per 
sisted,  in  final  and  desperate  urging. 

"  That  would  make  no  difference  to  me  in 
this  matter.  I  loved  him  living,  and  I  love  him 
dead,  if  so  be  that  he  is  not.  '  Until  death  us 
do  part '  is  my  creed.  If  he  is  gone,  I  shall  wait 
alone  until  God  restores  me  to  him,  if  he  is  not 
to  be  restored  to  me  before.  Next  to  him,  you 
have  the  highest  place  in  my  heart." 

"  But  the  place  isn't  high  enough,  is  it,  Julia? " 

"  No,  not  for  what  you  want." 

The  man  turned  and  faced  the  west;  he  threw 
up  his  hands  and  stood  a  moment,  his  face  raised 
to  the  declining  sun.  God  have  pity  on  him! 
she  thought,  tenderly  enough,  knowing  his 
bereavement  in  her  own.  She  turned  away  from 
him  and  buried  her  own  face  in  her  hands,  and 
so  the  ancient  sacrifice  of  prayer  was  offered 
upon  that  lonely  mountain-side.  It  was  the  man 
who  recovered  himself  first. 

"  I  was  a  fool  to  speak,"  he  said,  bitterly.  "  I 
have  kept  my  heart  hidden  from  you  for  all 
these  years.  We  must  forget  it  and  go  on  as 
before." 

"No,"  said  the  woman  with  clearer  vision, 
[140] 


No,"  said  the   woman,  "you   have   spoken,   and   there   is 
that  between  us  which  will  forever  keep  us  apart" 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"that's  impossible;  you  have  spoken,  and  there 
is  that  between  us  which  will  forever  keep  us 
apart.  You  must  go  your  way,  and  I  must  go 
mine." 

"  I  have  no  way  but  yours." 

"Don't  say  that!" 

"  I  have  no  choice." 
'  You  are  a  man,  you  must  make  a  way." 

"And  you?" 

"  My  way  is  made." 

"And  it  leads  —  " 

"  To  him,  living  or  dead." 

Ellison  bowed  his  head  before  her.  "  I  accept 
your  decision,  but  only  because  I  have  to,"  he 
said  bitterly. 

"  Good-bye,"  said  the  woman,  extending  her 
hand.  "  I  shall  never  forget  what  you  have  done 
for  me,  what  you  have  been  to  me." 

"  Oh,  Julia,  could  n't  you  — "  he  began,  in 
final  appeal. 

"  I  shall  leave  you  here,"  was  her  firm  answer. 
"  The  boatswain  and  I  will  go  down  by  the  trail 
to-night  to  the  town." 

"Wait,"  said  the  man,  "I  wasn't  quite  fair 
with  you." 

[141] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

She  stopped  and  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

"  Not  fair  with  me?    What  do  you  mean?  " 

"  This  miserable  end  of  my  dream,"  he  an 
swered,  "  makes  life  as  before  impossible,  as  you 
say,  yet  I  wanted  to  try  my  fortune  before  I 
told  you.  Please  believe,"  he  continued  ear 
nestly,  "that  I  did  not  intend  to  keep  it  from 
you;  but  I  realized  that  if  I  could  not  win  your 
affection  before  I  told  you,  it  would  be  absolutely 
impossible  after." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  again  asked  the 
woman,  more  and  more  amazed,  yet  with  a  sud 
den  hope  thrilling  in  her  heart  and  speaking  in 
her  voice. 

'You  are  a  rich  woman:  you  can  indulge 
your  desires ;  you  can  buy  a  ship  if  you  want  to, 
or  a  fleet;  you  can  go  where  you  will,"  he  an 
swered,  seeing  in  his  grief  all  that  the  tidings 
meant  to  her. 

"  My  God!  "  exclaimed  Julia  Cleveland.  "  It 
can  not  be." 

"This  claim  has  panned  out;  I  deceived  you. 
If  my  experience  is  anything,  it  will  be  worth 
millions;  and  one-third  of  it  is  yours,  one-third 
of  it  is  mine,  and  one-third  of  it  belongs  to  old 


I     ^ 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

Foresman.  You  know  we  agreed  to  share  alike. 
You  can  search  for  your  husband  to  the  end  of 
time,  if  you  will;  and  please  God,"  said  the  man 
magnanimously,  but  with  a  breaking  heart, 
"  since  it  is  not  to  be  I,  that  you  may  find  him, 
alive,  well,  true." 

Unable  to  comprehend  the  full  nature  of  this 
overwhelming  revelation,  the  woman  stood  star 
ing  at  him. 

"I  suppose,"  continued  Ellison  slowly,  "that 
you  are  resentful  toward  me  for  withholding  the 
news  from  you,  and  in  a  way  I  deserve  your 
blame;  yet,  in  a  way,  every  man  is  entitled  to  his 
chance.  I  did  it;  there  was  no  use  in  it,  but  I 
am  not  sorry.  I  shall  leave  you,  but  I  shall  never 
forget  you.  These  hours,  with  all  the  others  that 
we  have  spent  together,  are  burned  in  my  mem 
ory.  You  are  in  my  heart.  Although  you  may 
be  in  the  arms  of  another  man,  he  can't  take  that 
comfort  and  that  joy  from  me.  I  hope  you  will 
succeed ;  it  is  too  bad  to  have  both  of  us  so  wretch 
edly  unhappy.  Before  I  go,  I  will  arrange  all 
matters  for  you;  and  though  you  go  back  to 
Stephen,  won't  you  try  to  forgive  me,  and  not 
to  forget  me?" 

^ '  » 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"I  will  never  forget  you,"  answered  the 
woman,  transformed  by  the  glad  tidings;  and 
if  Ellison  loved  her  before,  think  how  he  loved 
her  then!  "It  isn't  necessary  to  say  I  will  for 
give  you.  You  have  been  everything  that  a  man 
could  be  and  should  be  to  the  wife  of  his  friend." 

How  deftly,  he  realized,  she  threw  that  wife- 
hood  of  hers  and  that  friendship  of  his  into  his 
face! 

"  And  I  never  liked  you  so  well,  never  wanted 
to  help  you  so  much,  never  wished  I  could  do 
something  for  you,  as  I  do  at  this  moment,"  she 
continued. 

She  took  his  hand,  he  let  her  have  it  unresist 
ingly,  she  bent  her  head  and  pressed  her  lips  to 
it  a  long  time,  and  then  she  held  it  hard  against 
her  face.  The  tears  welled  up  in  her  eyes  —  and 
she  was  not  a  woman  who  wept  easily  or  on  light 
occasion.  So  she  put  the  baptismal  seal  upon  it 
for  self -sacrifice  and  reverence,  and  then  turning 
away,  left  him  there. 

Facing  the  setting  sun  upon  the  mountain 
side,  he  watched  her  go  faster  and  faster  down 
the  path.  He  watched  her  while  she  spoke  to  the 


I    . 

- 


[144] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

old  boatswain.  He  watched  them  both  as  the 
latter  leaped  to  his  feet  and  followed  her. 
Marking  the  buoyancy  of  her  step,  so  light  with 
hope,  so  swift  with  longing,  that  the  old  man 
could  scarce  keep  by  her  side,  he  watched  them 
as  they  vanished  down  the  trail  toward  the  dis 
tant  town  in  the  foothills  of  the  range,  leaving 
him  behind,  alone  upon  the  mountain.  She  could 
not  waste  a  minute  now,  having  waited  long 
years.  She  was  so  engrossed  in  the  future  that 
she  never  even  once  looked  back  at  him. 

He  would  live  for  her  sake.  He  had  come 
into  her  life  when  it  was  at  its  lowest  ebb,  on 
the  streets  of  San  Francisco,  when  she  was  beg 
ging  bread,  asking  alms  for  the  sick  old  man 
whose  only  resource  she  was,  and  she  left  him 
now  at  the  very  zenith  of  it.  She  had  means  in 
hand  to  convert  hope  into  reality,  means  that  he 
had  helped  her  to  acquire  and  which  would  throw 
her  into  the  arms  of  another  man  some  day,  if 
he  lived;  into  the  arms  of  Captain  Stephen 
Cleveland,  at  this  moment  closely  clasped  to  the 
heart  of  little  Felicity,  far  away  on  that  island 
paradise  in  that  distant  summer  sea! 


[145] 


• 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

If  Ellison  could  have  foreseen  all  that,  would 
he  have  been  glad  or  sorry  ?  Would  he  have  said 
that  for  every  grief  somewhere  there  is  compen 
sation?  Would  that  knowledge  have  been  com 
pensation,  I  wonder? 


[146] 


BOOK  IV 
THE  PASSING  OF  FELICITY 


CHAPTER  XI 

WHEREIN     LESSONS    ARE    TAUGHT    AND    LEARNED 
THAT  ARE  NOT  IN  THE  TEXT-BOOK 

IT  is  not  often  that  a  man  sits  down  to  think 
over  what  he  has  accomplished  in  a  period 
passed ;  and  it  is  less  often,  even  though  he  make 
the  attempt  honestly,  that  he  has  any  great  suc 
cess  in  rightly  measuring  what  has  been  achieved. 
Others,  from  the  viewpoint  of  detachment,  must 
do  that  for  us.  It  was  by  no  means  a  difficult 
task,  however,  in  the  case  of  Captain  Stephen 
Cleveland.  Waiting  on  the  strand,  idly  con 
templating  the  sea,  the  changeless,  monotonous, 
unvarying  ocean  which  broke  on  the  barrier  reef 
before  him,  as  it  had  broken,  perhaps,  since  the 
dawn  of  the  world's  morning,  certainly  long  be 
fore  it  had  been  sighted  by  any  human  eye,  he 
could  honestly  admit  that  he  had  accomplished 
practically  nothing  —  nothing  material,  that  is. 

Back  beneath  the  palms  in  a  sheltered  spot 
there  was  a  rude  wattled  hut,  such  as  an  un- 

[147] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

skilled  man  could  make  with  no  tools,  but  with 
his  bare  hands.  A  savage  dweller  in  these  lati 
tudes  would  have  laughed  it  to  scorn.  Up  on 
the  peak  of  the  island  some  trifling  work  in  the 
grotto  for  the  comfort  of  the  woman  completed 
the  sum  total  of  his  achievements. 

He  belonged  to  the  tool-using  race;  given  a 
few  rudimentary  instruments,  he  would  have 
accomplished  wonders.  Without  them,  he  was 
helpless.  On  this  island  there  were  no  pocket 
knives,  no  bunches  of  keys,  no  fragments  of 
flint  or  bits  of  steel.  What  is  a  castaway  of 
romance  without  a  last  match  and  a  bit  of  steel? 
He  had  neither.  Nor  did  he  chance  upon  the 
fruitful  remains  of  some  Spanish  galleon 
stranded  there  centuries  before.  What  is  an  un 
known  South  Pacific  island  without  those  wrecks 
of  the  sea,  any  way,  the  experienced  reader  asks  ? 
Well,  in  this  case  they  were  not  there. 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  had  come  ashore  al 
most  naked ;  even  his  shoes  had  been  ruined  in  the 
fire.  He  had  brought  absolutely  nothing  into  this, 
his  new  world,  and  although  he  had  searched 
every  foot  of  the  island  diligently,  he  had  found 
in  it  nothing  that  would  serve  his  purpose.  Little 
[148] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

Felicity  was  equally  destitute.  There  were  not 
even  stones  suitable  to  chip  into  axe-heads  or 
rude  primitive  knives ;  or  if  there  had  been,  to  at 
tempt  to  make  such  use  of  them  never  would 
have  occurred  to  him.  He  was  by  no  means  a 
prodigy,  and  although  he  racked  his  brain  he 
could  effect  nothing. 

Stop !  He  had  done  something.  With  certain 
hard  thorny  spines  for  teeth  and  with  pithy 
pieces  of  cane  for  backing,  he  had  managed  to 
make  a  tolerably  good  substitute  for  a  comb  — 
his  one  achievement  that!  He  had  combed  his 
hair  and  his  beard;  he  had  taught  Miss  Felicity 
to  comb  her  curly  hair,  and  what  had  been  a 
tangled  mass  when  he  met  her,  now  hung  in 
beautiful  wavelets  on  her  more  beautiful 
shoulders. 

Now  it  seems  a  little  thing  to  be  able  to  comb 
your  hair,  but  just  imagine  what  a  deprivation 
it  would  be  if  you  could  not  do  it,  especially  if 
you  were  blessed  with  ample  locks.  That  rude 
comb  was  apparently  the  one  thing  that  tied  him 
to  civilization,  the  one  thing  that  differentiated 
him  from  the  most  ignorant,  barbarous,  and  de 
graded  savage.  It  stood  for  order,  for  neatness, 

[149] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

for  cleanliness.  With  his  hair  combed,  whim 
sically  enough  he  often  thought  he  stood  for  a 
gentleman;  without  it  —  he  shuddered  at  the 
possibility. 

But  if  he  had  accomplished  nothing  materially 
in  those  slowly  dragging,  long  drawn  out  months 
and  years,  he  had  achieved  other  tasks.  For  one 
thing  he  had  supplemented  the  hitherto  exceed 
ingly  limited  educational  development  of  Felicity 
with  stores,  to  her,  of  wonderful  information 
which  he  had  acquired  in  his  wandering  life. 
There  was  not  much  order  or  sequence  in 
what  he  taught  her,  not  much  method  in  what 
he  tried  to  impart,  but  compared  to  her  simple 
ignorance  he  was  a  man  of  vast  and  varied 
learning. 

The  initiative  was  his,  but  with  a  keen  thirst 
for  information  she  soon  sought  and  eagerly  as 
similated  with  growing  interest  and  ease  all  he 
had  to  give  her.  Without  writing  materials  or 
anything  to  read,  his  methods  were  necessarily 
hampered  and  the  results  accordingly  imperfect, 
but  what  he  had  he  freely  gave  to  her.  Indeed, 
his  chief est  interest  and  pleasure  in  life  lay  in 
these  daily,  yet  desultory,  lessons. 

[150] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

Little  Felicity  was  of  quick  apprehension,  her 
mind  was  as  lively  as  her  spirits,  her  disposition 
more  volatile  than  either.  Although  she  did  not 
know  the  meaning  of  the  word  coquette,  indeed 
had  never  heard  it  —  at  least  as  far  as  she  could 
remember,  for  they  did  not  discuss  things  which 
would  have  led  in  that  direction,  if  he  could  pre 
vent  it  —  she  coquetted  with  Captain  Stephen 
Cleveland  the  major  part  of  the  time.  He  was 
too  self-centred  and  too  wrapped  up  in  other 
things  to  notice  it  at  first;  and  when  he  did,  it 
made  little  impression  upon  him  save  to  amuse 
him  greatly. 

Naturally,  among  other  things,  he  taught  her 
about  the  world  beyond  the  sky  line,  —  the  world 
from  which  they  were  as  effectually  shut  off  as 
Adam  and  Eve  from  Eden  by  the  Angel  of  the 
Flaming  Sword  after  the  fall,  —  and  he  taught 
her  about  that  world  with  a  growing  sense  of 
its  appeal  and  a  constantly  increasing  bitterness 
and  revolt  in  his  mind  at  its  absolute  and  ap 
parently  eternal  inaccessibility.  She  liked  to 
hear  of  this  strange  world,  but  it  did  not  move 
her  very  much;  it  made  no  great  appeal  to  her 
in  her  blissful  ignorance  of  it.  Her  obvious  con- 

[151] 


tent  in  the  present  situation  was  quite  in  propor 
tion  to  his  equally  obvious  discontent. 

The  moon  looks  on  many  brooks,  but  this  poor 
little  brook  had  seen  no  other  moon  than  this. 
There  was  no  one  with  whom  she  could  com 
pare  him;  he  was  without  doubt  the  greatest, 
the  wisest,  and  the  most  magnificent  being  in  the 
world  to  her.  Like  the  "  ivy  that  clings  to  the 
first  met  tree,"  she  had  no  other  object  in  life 
but  this  man. 

He  was  not  so  circumstanced,  he  had  other  in 
terests,  other  memories,  other  hopes,  other  ambi 
tions,  other  dreams,  other  longings,  which  swept 
over  him  often  and  flung  him  into  the  most 
heart-breaking  despairs.  At  such  times  she 
would  steal  to  his  side  and  take  his  hands  in  hers 
and  try  in  some  dumb  way,  in  spite  of  her  in 
experience,  to  comfort  him.  Half  mad  and  not 
master  of  himself,  he  would  suffer  these  timid 
and  yet  appealing  caresses,  until,  with  recollec 
tion  of  where  he  was  and  what  was  toward  burst 
ing  upon  him,  he  would  break  away  from  her 
gentle  detaining  hands  almost  roughly,  thrusting 
her  aside.  Plunging  into  unfrequented  parts  of 

[  152  ] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

the  island  and  bidding  her  not  to  follow  him, 
there  he  would  fight  it  out  alone. 

When  he  left  her  thus,  unnoticed,  neglected, 
cast  aside,  thrust  away,  she  would  fling  herself 
down  and  sob  as  if  her  heart,  too,  would  break. 
With  the  love  that  speedily  sprung  up  within  her 
breast  for  him,  would  come  those  natural  con 
comitants  of  jealous  hatred  and  resentment, 
which  make  human  devotion  and  affection  fall 
so  far  short  of  the  divine. 

So  her  secret  is  out:  indeed,  it  would  be  as 
useless  as  impossible  to  withhold  from  the  ex 
perienced  reader  this  inevitable  development  of 
the  story.  The  girl,  ripening  rapidly  into  full- 
grown  womanhood,  loved  the  man,  and  it  is 
difficult  to  see  how  she  could  have  done  otherwise 
under  the  circumstances.  She  did  not  exactly 
know  what  love  was  or  what  it  implied.  She 
had  enjoyed  no  experience  of  it;  she  had  no 
opportunities  of  learning  about  it;  it  was  one 
thing  barred  in  his  curriculum.  She  had  only 
her  instinct  to  guide  her — the  old,  old  instinct 
that  has  obtained  from  the  beginning  between 
man  and  woman,  and  will  obtain. 

[153] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

She  begrudged  every  glance  that  he  gave  that 
was  not  hers ;  she  coveted  every  moment  in  which 
she  was  not  by  him;  she  demurred  to  every 
thought  he  wasted  upon  any  other  being,  or  any 
other  thing. 

He  never  talked  to  her  of  his  wife;  he  had 
long  since  given  Julia  up  for  dead ;  he  had  buried 
the  memory  of  her  deep  in  his  heart;  and  al 
though  he  kept  it  green,  he  would  not  resurrect 
it  on  occasion  and  make  it  a  subject  of  chance 
conversation.  Nor,  on  her  part,  did  she  ever 
mention  this  woman  whom  she  embodied  so 
vaguely  in  her  imagination.  She  let  the  thought 
of  her  gnaw  and  tear  her  bosom;  but  when  she 
was  bitterest  and  sorest,  like  the  little  mermaid 
in  the  fairy  story,  she  smiled  more  brightly  at 
her  lord  and  master.  No  idle  words  those,  he 
was  her  master.  He  was  so  strong,  so  handsome, 
so  brave,  so  wise,  so  noble,  and  so  true;  at  least 
she  thought  him  all  these  things,  and  most  of 
them  he  was.  And  he  was  so  kind  to  her,  albeit 
he  persisted  in  treating  her  habitually  with  the 
condescension  one  naturally  uses  toward  a  child, 
a  condescension  which  made  her  furious. 

She  had  learned  of  him  more  than  is  to  be 
[154] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

acquired  from  books  or  by  word  of  mouth.  If 
in  one  month  she  had  learned  more  of  herself, 
of  her  womanhood,  of  its  possibilities,  than  had 
ever  been  brought  to  her  consciousness  in  all  the 
preceding  periods  of  her  life,  how  much  had  she 
acquired  in  many  months? 

She  was  as  light  on  her  feet  as  a  summer 
breeze,  as  swift  as  a  swallow,  as  elusive  as  the 
perfume  of  a  flower.  Oftentimes  she  watched 
him  from  some  covert  hiding-place  when  he 
least  imagined  it.  She  followed  him  unnoticed, 
and  hid  near  him  when  he  fancied  himself  alone. 
Sometimes  when  he  paced  the  sand  in  agony,  his 
hands  stretched  out  alike  in  vain  appeal  toward 
sea  and  sky  and  sand,  her  heart  yearned  over  him. 

At  his  word  she  would  have  been  all  things  to 
him.  She  was  his:  he  had  but  to  take  her,  even 
to  indicate  his  wish,  and  she  would  not  wait  to 
be  taken.  With  the  delicate  passion  and  aban 
donment  of  France,  to  which  was  added  all  the 
fierce  fervor  begot  of  the  tropic  suns,  she  loved 
him.  Without  knowing  by  name  what  jealousy 
was,  she  tried  to  make  him  jealous.  She  gave 
and  she  withheld,  she  offered  and  she  withdrew. 
Every  instinct  of  art  begot  by  thousands  of  gen- 

[155] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

erations  of  helplessness  and  subordination,  of 
which  she  was  the  child;  every  tender  appeal  of 
old  inheritance  in  the  propitiatory  art  of  pleas 
ing  men,  she  proffered  him. 

He  must  have  succumbed  to  her  wooing  a 
thousand  times,  had  he  not  been  panoplied, 
armored  in  proof,  by  his  devotion  to  another 
woman,  or  to  her  living  memory. 

Alas,  that  there  should  always  be  some  weak 
joint  in  the  most  approved  harness,  and  that  per 
sistence  will  eventually  find  it,  and  through  it 
effect  an  entrance  for  inimic  steel ! 

So  the  two  blundered  along  for  three  years. 
Matters  were  in  solution,  however,  and  the  solu 
tion  was  so  complete  that  only  a  precipitant  was 
needed  to  effect  the  chemical  and  spiritual  change 
which  would  bring  hidden  things  to  light. 

The  daily  routine  of  the  two  had  settled  into 
something  like  order.  In  the  morning,  by  a 
treacherous  and  dangerous  path  along  the  cliff 
face,  she  came  down  to  the  strand  and  joined 
him,  fresh  from  his  bath  and  ready  to  welcome 
her.  They  spent  the  long  morning  together,  one 
day  just  like  another.  He  insisted  upon  periods 
of  isolation  and  separation  in  the  afternoon. 

[156] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

Later  they  met  again  and  lingered  together,  un 
til  nightfall  sent  her  to  the  grotto,  to  which  he 
in  turn  came  in  the  mornings  of  the  rainy  season, 
for  it  was  dry  there  and  comfortably  sheltered 
and  protected. 

One  day,  one  week,  one  year,  several  years, 
passed  in  unvarying  sameness.  Nothing  material 
had  ever  happened  in  all  that  time,  no  sail  had 
ever  whitened  the  horizon.  Nothing  could  de 
scribe  the  absolute  isolation  of  the  pair.  They 
were  completely  shut  off  from  man.  The  first 
vague  hope  which  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland 
had  nourished  for  some  kind  of  rescue,  whence 
and  by  what  means  he  could  not  tell,  had  long 
since  faded  away.  He  was  doomed,  he  felt  at 
last,  to  live  there  with  this  woman  until  he  died. 
Sometimes  of  late  certain  obtruding  conscious 
nesses  had  come  to  him,  which  shaped  themselves 
to  fit  two  words  of  interrogation  — 

"Why  not?" 

These  words  were  reckless,  begot  of  despair, 
not  disloyalty  or  indifference;  and  like  the  good 
man  that  he  was,  he  fought  them  down,  refused 
them  lodgment,  dispossessed  his  heart  of  them 
so  far  as  he  could. 

[157] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

How  long  he  could  have  done  so,  and  whether 
he  would  have  wished  to  do  so  always,  is  a  purely 
academic  question  into  which  we  need  not  go, 
for  something  happened  at  last  which  brought 
affairs  to  a  crisis.  Whether  it  happened  alto 
gether  by  chance,  or  whether  humanity  aided 
design,  it  never  entered  Captain  Stephen  Cleve 
land's  mind  to  inquire ;  but  it  very  gravely  enters 
mine! 


[158] 


CHAPTER  XII 

HOW  THE  CASTAWAY  WAS  THREATENED 
WITH  A  GREAT  LOSS 

LATE  one  morning  Captain  Stephen  Cleve 
land  waited  in  vain  on  the  strand  for  his 
daily  visitor.  He  had  never  been  obliged  to  wait 
for  her  before,  and  waiting  was  not  good  for  him. 
Imperious  by  nature  and  by  his  trade  of  ship 
master,  he  was  not  a  good  waiter.  The  past  three 
years  had  made  him  worse.  He  could  not  under 
stand  why  she  did  not  come.  What  could  be  the 
matter?  He  had  never  been  compelled  to  seek 
her  before;  he  had  never  had  to  call  her  to  him 
self;  she  had  been  as  inseparably  by  him,  so  long 
as  he  would  allow  her,  as  his  shadow  in  the  sun 
shine. 

He  walked  restlessly  up  and  down  the  strand 
as  if  it  had  been  the  quarter-deck  of  his  ship, 
his  impatience  growing,  a  strange  feeling  of 
anxiety  and  pain  mingling  with  disappointment 
and  a  certain  resentment  at  her  absence.  Could 

[159] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

anything  have  happened  to  her?  She  was  accus 
tomed  to  run  recklessly  upon  the  edge  of  the 
cliff  in  spite  of  his  remonstrances.  Perhaps  — 
he  stopped  suddenly  and  called  her  name  again 
and  again,  and  unavailingly  always.  What  could 
be  the  matter? 

At  last  he  determined  to  seek  her.  He  did 
not  try  the  dangerous  path  up  the  cliff,  but  ran 
around  the  longer  way.  The  nearer  he  ap 
proached  the  plateau  the  faster  he  ran,  and  at 
last  he  turned  breathlessly  along  the  edge  and 
stood  in  the  grotto  entrance.  The  cave  was 
empty.  She  was  not  there !  The  bed  that  he  had 
made  for  her,  retaining  the  leaves  and  prevent 
ing  them  from  scattering,  by  pieces  of  wood 
which  he  had  dragged  there,  had  been  occupied 
during  the  night  evidently,  but  she  was  not 
there. 

There  were  thousands  of  temporary  places  of 
concealment  on  that  island;  she  might  be  in  any 
of  these.  In  some  sportive  fancy  she  might  have 
hid  from  him,  yet  he  did  not  think  so.  He  went 
back  into  the  open  and  called  her  name  again 
and  again,  as  before.  And  as  before,  there  was 
no  answer.  He  was  now  overwhelmed  with 

[160] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

anxiety.  Could  she  have  fallen  over  the  cliff? 
The  thought  gave  him  the  keenest  pain. 

Her  presence  had  been  a  problem  to  him;  but 
the  life  they  had  lived,  which  he  had  planned 
and  which  he  had  rigorously  carried  out  and  had 
forced  her  to  acquiesce  in,  had  seemed  to  post 
pone  indefinitely  the  solution  of  that  problem. 
Now  it  was  thrust  upon  him.  What  could  he  do 
without  her?  Insufferable  as  this  island  was  even 
with  her,  what  would  it  be  if  she  were  dead?  It 
was  a  strange,  unusual  commixture  of  emotions 
that  invaded  his  bosom.  He  did  not  love  his 
wife  the  less,  but —  He  would  speculate  no 
longer  that  way;  there  madness  lay. 

He  leaned  far  over  the  cliff.  He  stared  into 
the  void  beneath.  He  called  her  name,  his  voice 
being  lost  in  the  roar  of  the  breakers  upon  the 
reefs,  far  down,  which  there  ran  within  a  stone's 
throw  of  the  cliff's  foot.  He  could  see  no  sign 
of  her  in  the  clear  waters  below.  With  a  certain 
great  relief  at  the  negation  of  this  possibility, 
he  turned  landward  again.  He  stared  down  to 
ward  his  hut  under  the  palms,  hoping  she  might 
by  happy  chance  be  there,  but  all  was  still  and 
silent.  No  graceful  figure  flitted  fairylike  be- 
[161] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

neath  the  trees.  No  Ariel  of  the  Island,  flower- 
crowned,  leaf -shrouded,  tripped  lightly  on  the 
sands. 

He  was  completely  at  a  loss  what  to  do,  and 
finally  determined  to  go  as  he  had  done  on  that 
long-past  day  so  many  years  before,  to  the  foot 
of  the  island  and  search  it  thoroughly  from  end 
to  end,  as  he  had  done  when  first  he  realized  her 
presence  there.  He  was  convinced  now  that 
something  serious  had  occurred.  This  was  no 
frolic.  His  heart  was  like  lead  in  his  breast.  If 
he  lost  her  —  ah,  God ! 

The  quickest  way  to  descend  to  the  beach  was 
down  the  cliff.  Difficult  and  dangerous  was  the 
path,  especially  to  him,  who  was  neither  so  light 
nor  so  sure  of  foot  as  she,  sailor  though  he  was. 
Accordingly  down  it  he  went,  progressing  reck 
lessly  over  its  steeps,  more  rapidly  than  ever  be 
fore.  He  proceeded  hurriedly  with  an  entire 
disregard  of  the  dangers.  He  flung  himself 
from  ledge  to  ledge,  and  dropped  from  place  to 
place,  with  as  much  lightness  and  grace  as  she 
on  going  to  meet  him.  Rounding  an  abrupt  turn 
in  the  path  he  suddenly  came  upon  her.  She  was 
lying  stretched  out  in  a  little  crevice  of  the  cliff, 
[162] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

which  kept  her  from  falling  farther.  She  was 
greatly  frightened,  but  her  reassurance  when  she 
saw  him  was  amazing;  she  stretched  out  one 
trembling  arm  to  him,  exclaiming, 

"Oh,  I  thought  you  would  never  come." 

Let  it  be  noted  that  by  this  time  she  spoke 
English,  with  an  accent  singularly  like  his  own. 
For,  among  the  various  occupations  of  the  past 
three  years,  he  had  taught  her  his  own  tongue. 
His  French  was  not  perfect,  and  it  would  be 
more  convenient  for  them  to  converse  in  Eng 
lish.  Submissively  she  had  acquiesced  in  this 
decision. 

"  I  am  so  glad  you  are  here,"  she  continued. 

Perhaps  another  woman  in  like  circumstances 
would  have  phrased  it  this  way,  "  Thank  God, 
you  have  come";  but  while  there  was  a  deep 
religious  vein  in  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland,  like 
most  men  he  was  shy  and  timid  in  expressing  it. 
He  had  not  had  much  experience  in  the  discus 
sion  of  such  matters,  and  although  he  had  made 
a  number  of  endeavors  to  talk  seriously  with 
her,  he  had  not  been  very  successful.  She  was 
not  instinctively  religious,  it  appeared  —  even 
some  women  are  not !  —  and  God  was  a  very 
[163] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

vague  abstraction  to  this  little  semi-pagan  of  the 
island.  She  was  a  materialist,  an  opportunist, 
who  lived  entirely  in  the  present,  and  whose 
motto  was,  "  Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread." 
For  other  petitions  she  had  little  use. 

Stop!  Such  prayers  as  she  could  make  or  did 
make  were  that,  in  addition  to  daily  bread,  she 
might  have  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  for  her 
own,  or  that  he  might  have  her,  which  was  quite 
the  same  thing,  she  thought,  in  her  innocence. 
Therefore  she  did  not  thank  God  for  his  arrival, 
she  only  thanked  the  man. 

"What,"  exclaimed  the  man  breathlessly,  as 
he  steadied  himself  against  the  face  of  the  rock 
and  looked  down  at  her,  "  what  has  happened  to 
you?  I  have  never  been  so  frightened  in  my 
life,"  he  went  on  in  an  almost  angry  reproach  — 
manlike.  "  I  have  searched  everywhere  for  you." 

"  I  slipped  on  a  rock  and  fell." 

Just  how  much  was  accident,  and  how  much 
was  reckless  tempting  of  fortune  in  a  fit  of  des 
perate  loneliness  and  passion,  to  impress  him, 
she  did  not  say,  nor  did  he  inquire.  In  her  pas 
sionate  waywardness  she  was  quite  capable  of 
hurling  herself  from  the  top  to  the  bottom  of 

[164] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

the  cliff,  regardless  of  what  might  happen,  if  the 
provocation  were  great  enough. 

"  Are  you  badly  hurt?  "  he  asked,  bending  over 
her. 

"  I  don't  know.  I  think  so,  —  I  can't  walk. 
Look!"  Slowly  and  painfully  she  thrust  out  one 
exquisite  foot  toward  him.  He  examined  it  skil 
fully.  Most  sea  captains  of  that  day  were  pos 
sessed  of  a  certain  surgical  knowledge  of  a  rough 
and  ready  sort.  Although  his  manipulations  hurt 
her  fiercely,  there  was  a  certain  pleasure  to  be 
got  from  them.  She  stifled  every  expression  of 
pain  until  he  had  finished. 

"Felicity,"  he  began  —  he  had  long  since  dis 
carded  the  "  Miss,"  and  he  had  taught  her  to  call 
him  "  Stephen,"  titles  and  degrees  had  seemed 
so  absurd  on  the  island  —  "Felicity,  I  believe 
your  leg  is  broken  between  the  knee  and  ankle." 

"  Is  that  very  bad? "  she  asked,  apprehensively. 

"No,  it  seems  to  be  only  a  simple  fracture." 

"And  do  you  know  what  to  do  with  it?" 

"  Certainly.     I  will  bandage  your  leg  up  in, 
splints  —  pieces  of  wood,  that  is  —  and  you  will 
have  to  be  very  quiet  for  five  or  six  weeks  until 
the  bones  grow  together." 
[165] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"  But  what  shall  I  do  if  I  can  not  walkf  "  she 
asked. 

"  I  will  have  to  bring  you  things  and  take  care 
of  you  until  you  can." 

She  had  to  shut  her  eyes  to  keep  out  the  flash 
of  exultation  at  that  bit  of  information  so  in 
nocently  given.  For  he  was  thinking  then  only 
of  her  absolute  helplessness.  She  would  have 
been  almost  willing  to  die  to  bring  this  present 
kindness  to  her;  a  broken  leg,  however  painful, 
was  a  small  price  to  pay  for  that,  she  thought. 
What  she  said  did  not  in  any  way  express  her 
feelings. 

"  That  will  be  very  hard  for  you,"  she 
murmured. 

"Nonsense,"  said  the  man  almost  roughly. 

"  I  shall  try  to  be  as  little  trouble  as  possible," 
she  ran  on. 

*  You  could  n't  be  any  trouble  if  you  tried,  my 
dear  child,"  he  replied.  "  Now,  I  must  get  you 
out  of  this  place;  first,  I  had  better  try  to  do 
something  with  that  leg." 

If  he  only  had  had  a  proper  bandage  it  would 
have  been  easy,  yet  he  was  not  entirely  resource- 
less.  This  new  Adam  and  Eve  had  made  them- 

[166] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

selves  garments  out  of  certain  plants  and  leaves 
and  long  fibres  which  they  had  come  upon  in 
their  journeyings  about  the  island.  They  both 
wore  long  tunics  which  fell  from  shoulder  to  knee, 
admirably  adapted  for  their  purposes.  He  knew 
where  he  could  get  scores  of  rushes  with  which 
to  plait  cords;  indeed,  he  had  accumulated  some 
lengths  of  rude  plaited  rope  or  cord  in  his  hut 
under  the  palm.  He  was  glad  now  that  he  had 
employed  his  idle  moments  in  weaving  the  braid, 
for  what  emergency  he  knew  not.  And  he  knew 
where  he  could  get  certain  pieces  of  bark,  or 
wood,  from  fallen  trees,  which  would  make  good 
enough  splints.  He  rose  from  her  side,  where 
he  had  been  kneeling,  and  turned  away. 

"  I  shall  be  back  in  a  moment,"  he  said. 

"Are  you  going  to  leave  me  here  alone?" 
Felicity  cried,  half  in  alarm,  half  covetous  of  his 
presence. 

"  I  must.  If  you  lie  quiet  nothing  can  hurt 
you,  and  it  is  to  get  things  to  bind  up  your 
wound  that  I  go,"  he  said. 

"  I  am  afraid  to  lie  here,"  she  cried,  her  eyes 
filling  with  tears. 

She  had  never  spoken  to  him  like  that  before. 
[167] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

He  stopped  and  looked  down  upon  her,  as  she 
looked  up  appealingly  at  him. 

"  I  can't  help  it,"  he  said.  "  Don't  move.  I  '11 
hurry,  —  don't  be  afraid." 

He  stooped  over  and  laid  his  hand  gently  upon 
her  forehead.  It  was  the  first  approach  to  a  caress 
he  had  ever  given  her.  In  the  exquisite  pleasure 
and  satisfaction  of  it  she  forgot  the  pain  and 
everything  else.  She  shut  her  eyes  that  nothing 
external  might  intervene  between  her  and  her 
joy,  and  when  she  opened  them  he  was  gone. 


[168] 


CHAPTER  XIII 

IN  WHICH  LITTLE  FELICITY  AT  LAST  REALIZES 
HER  FONDEST  DESIRE 

HOWEVER  delightful  her  meditations - 
and  that  they  were  delightful  at  all,  in 
view  of  the  excruciating  pain  from  her  broken 
leg,  is  evidence  of  the  intensity  of  her  feeling  — 
she  was  not  left  long  alone.  Bestirring  himself 
with  a  speed  he  did  not  often  manifest  in  the  dolce 
far  niente  existence  of  the  enchanted  island,  Cap 
tain  Stephen  Cleveland  was  soon  back  by  her 
side  again.  He  had  brought  with  him  some  of 
the  rude  cordage  he  had  made,  with  the  smallest 
and  best  pieces  of  wood  he  could  find  for  splints, 
together  with  some  of  the  basket-woven  mats  out 
of  which  they  made  their  tunics.  In  a  broken 
cocoanut  shell  he  carried  a  modicum  of  water. 
He  lifted  her  head  gently  and  allowed  her  to 
drink  a  little,  and  then  with  the  rest  he  laved  her 
swollen  and  fevered  limb.  When  all  his  prepara- 

[169] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

tions  were  complete  he  raised  the  broken  member 
as  tenderly  as  he  could,  and  said, 

"  I  am  afraid  I  am  going  to  hurt  you,  Felicity, 
but  it  has  to  be." 

'*  You  could  n't  hurt  me,"  said  the  girl,  bravely. 
"  I  would  be  willing  to  lose  that  foot,  or  any 
thing  else,  to  see  you  bending  over  and  caring  for 
me  this  way." 

It  was  a  personal  application  from  which  Cap 
tain  Stephen  Cleveland  shrank,  but  he  could 
think  of  no  appropriate  reproof  then,  nor  did 
any  suitable  course  of  action  to  indicate  his  dis 
approval  present  itself  to  him  at  the  moment. 
He  suddenly  became  very  business-like,  arrang 
ing  his  rude  appliances  as  rapidly  as  possible. 
He  dexterously  snapped  the  bones  in  place,  in 
spite  of  the  almost  unbearable  agony;  for  she 
was  not  used  to  illness,  as  women  usually  are, 
and  she  had  never  before  known  what  it  was  to 
be  hurt  seriously  or  to  suffer  much  bodily  pain. 
Then  he  rapidly  but  skilfully  affixed  the  splints, 
wrapped  them,  and  tied  them  securely.  It  was 
a  rude  piece  of  work,  but  the  fracture  was  a  sim 
ple  one  and  he  had  no  doubt  that,  with  proper 
care  and  watching,  in  a  few  weeks  her  broken 

[170] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

leg  would  be  as  sound  as  the  other  one.  He  had 
worked  quickly  in  spite  of  her  moaning,  but  he 
was  glad  at  last  to  say  to  her, 

"  It  is  all  over." 

"Oh,  I  am  so  glad." 

"Did  it  hurt  awfully?" 

"  No,  not  so  very  much.  You  were  so  gentle 
with  me  and  so  kind.  What  should  I  have  done 
without  you?" 

"  Yes,"  returned  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland 
in  a  very  matter-of-fact  tone,  although  his  emo 
tions  were  after  all  not  quite  so  matter-of-fact 
as  his  words,  "it  was  a  lucky  thing  that  I  was 
here." 

It  was  the  first  time,  he  might  have  reflected 
had  he  enjoyed  leisure  to  consider  his  statement, 
that  he  had  viewed  his  being  upon  the  island  in 
the  light  of  a  good  fortune. 

"  What  is  to  be  done  now?  "  asked  the  woman. 
"  I  suppose  I  can't  walk  on  that  foot?" 

"  Certainly  not;  I  shall  have  to  carry  you." 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  can  carry  me  down  that 
narrow  rocky  way." 

"It's  got  to  be  done;  there  is  no  alternative; 
you  can't  stay  here." 

[171] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 


He  could  not  possibly  carry  her  to  the  top. 
Fortunately  the  worst  half  of  the  descent  had 
been  passed  before  she  fell. 

"And  I  shall  have  to  hurt  you  sorely  again 
in  doing  it,"  he  continued. 

"  What  must  be,  must  be,"  she  replied,  uncon 
sciously  making  a  wider  application  of  the 
ancient  fatalistic  creed  than  was  involved  in  a 
passage  down  a  cliff  to  a  haven  upon  a  shining 
strand. 

"  Here  goes,  then,"  said  Captain  Stephen 
Cleveland,  stooping  down  and  lifting  her  easily 
in  his  strong  arms. 

He  endeavored  to  support  the  dangling  limb 
as  much  as  possible,  but  his  success  was  not  great. 
Again  she  bore  the  torture  with  the  resolution 
of  a  hero.  The  fact  that  he  carried  her,  that 
her  head  lay  upon  his  shoulder,  that  his  arms 
were  around  her,  that  she  could  feel  his  heart 
beat  against  her  own,  in  view  of  all  the  long 
years  of  waiting,  intoxicated  her  with  a  kind  of 
delirium,  a  madness  which  made  her  almost  for 
get  the  pain.  He  held  her  close  —  he  had  to. 

How  he  got  down  to  the  strand,  he  never  knew. 
The  strain,  not  only  of  her  weight,  although  she 
[172] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

was  but  a  slight  thing,  but  also  of  the  dangers 
of  the  steep  trail,  almost  unnerved  him.  Al 
though  he  was  powerful  beyond  the  ordinary 
vigorous  man,  he  was  trembling  in  every  joint, 
every  muscle  ached,  the  sweat  poured  from  his 
face,  when  he  stopped  at  last  on  the  strand,  his 
task  accomplished. 

"Shall  I  put  you  down  to  rest?"  he  asked, 
"or  —  " 

"Don't  ever  put  me  down,"  whispered  the 
woman  faintly,  and  then  —  "If  I  have  to  be 
carried  farther,  let  it  be  now,"  she  added. 

"  Very  well,"  he  assented. 

He  started  forward  rapidly,  holding  her  close 
until  he  reached  the  little  hut  under  the  palm. 

In  the  rainy  season  it  was  wattled  closely  down 
to  the  ground,  but  that  unpleasant  period  in  the 
year  had  not  yet  arrived.  The  hut  now  was 
simply  a  roof,  broad  and  low  and  wide  extending, 
open  on  all  sides  for  the  play  of  any  breeze. 
Upon  his  own  bed  of  leaves  and  fern  he  laid  her, 
and  although  there  was  relief  in  it  from  the  pain, 
she  regretted  in  her  soul  that  her  cheek  touched 
the  leaves  of  fragrant  fern  and  grass  rather  than 
his  shoulder. 

[173] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

She  had  her  eyes  closed;  he  thought  she  had 
fainted.  Immediately  he  stooped  over  her,  and 
her  hand,  reaching  out,  caught  his.  She  looked 
so  pale,  so  small,  so  fair,  so  dependent  upon  him ; 
she  was  so  helpless,  that  his  heart  went  out  to 
her.  His  breath  came  a  little  quicker,  the  color 
flamed  into  his  cheek,  denoting  something  of  what 
he  had  fought  down.  Unbidden  thoughts  rose 
in  his  soul.  He  looked  again.  Two  great  tears 
trembled  beneath  her  long  lashes. 

"Oh,"  she  murmured  pathetically,  "it  hurts 
me  so;  you  won't  leave  me  again  alone,  as 
before?" 

"  No,"  said  the  man  thickly. 

Her  hand-clasp  tightened;  she  drew  him  to 
ward  her.  Scarcely  knowing  what  he  did,  or 
how  he  did  it,  he  slipped  his  arm  under  her  head 
and  lifted  it  up  a  little,  and  then — 

How  or  why  neither  could  ever  say,  their  lips 
met;  the  fire  and  passion  and  sweet  desire,  the 
outgush  of  absolute  devotion  that  trembled  on 
her  own  lips,  awakened  some  kind  of  a  response 
on  his. 

"  Poor  little  Felicity,"  he  murmured,  drawing 
her  head  to  his  breast. 

[174] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

His  arm  stole  around  her,  she  released  his 
hand,  a  softer  arm  than  his  slipped  around  his 
neck.  In  spite  of  himself  they  kissed  again  and 
again.  She  smiled  up  at  him  through  her  tears, 
content  at  last. 

"Don't  call  me  poor,"  she  whispered  after 
a  while,  in  sweet  abandonment.  "  I  never  knew 
the  meaning  of  my  name  before.  I  am  so  happy. 
I  love  you  so  much,  I  have  loved  you  so  long, 
ever  since  I  found  you  in  the  night  on  the  island ; 
but  you  never  cared.  All  that  I  have,  all  that 
I  have  learned  from  you,  all  that  you  made  me, 
all  that  you  wanted  me  to  be,  all  that  I  am,  are 
for  you.  I  Ve  lived  for  your  love  until  this  hour. 
You  were  always  kind  to  me,  but  nothing  else. 
I  don't  know  how  other  women  love;  I  am  here 
alone  on  this  island;  I  have  nobody  to  teach  me, 
nobody  to  tell  me ;  but  here  "  —  she  laid  her  hand 
on  her  heart  beneath  her  breast,  small  like  a  child's 
and  as  pure  and  innocent,  —  "I  have  felt  things. 
We  are  alone  together,  no  one  has  ever  come 
here,  no  one  ever  will  come.  I  have  wondered 
if  I  was  to  live  here  forever  and  never  know  what 
love  is,  never  to  have  you  kiss  me  as  you  did  just 
now,  never  to  feel  your  heart  against  my  own; 

[175] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

but  now  it  is  all  changed.  I  am  so  happy.  You 
do  love  me,  don't  you?  You  do  care?" 

God  forgive  him,  what  else  could  he  say  under 
such  circumstances?  Could  he  decry  and  deny 
that  appeal?  This  woman  was  absolutely  alone 
on  this  island,  but  for  him.  No  man  had  ever 
come  into  her  life;  perhaps  no  man  ever  would 
come  except  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland. 

She  was  made  for  love,  she  had  a  woman's 
passionate  craving  for  sweet  observances  and 
tender  care,  she  was  made  to  be  admired  and 
adored.  Fate  had  put  him  by  her  side.  Should 
he  not  take  what  the  gods  provided,  and  give, 
too,  even  though  in  his  secret  heart  he  could  not 
return  in  full  measure  the  perfect  devotion  with 
which  she  overwhelmed  him? 

Carpe  diem!  Let  us  eat  and  drink,  for 
to-morrow  we  die!  Why  could  he  not,  why 
should  he  not,  respond  to  her  appeal? 

As  he  held  her  close,  looking  into  her  eyes  so 
softly  blue,  there  arose  the  picture  of  another 
woman,  a  woman  who  had  always  been  held  in 
his  heart,  and  who  would  always  hold  the  first 
place  there.  But  she  was  dead.  The  years  had 
come  and  gone,  bringing  no  message  to  him  from 

[176] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

out  the  vasty  deep,  to  bid  him  hope.  She  was 
gone.  He  could,  he  would,  have  been  faithful 
forever  to  her  memory  under  other  circumstances, 
but  no  man  was  ever  placed  in  circumstances  lik;e 
this.  He  owed  this  woman  something.  Her  life 
was  incomplete.  She  could  never  enjoy  the  hap 
piness  of  wedded  life  and  love,  she  could  never 
fulfil  the  destiny  of  life  and  love,  unless  — 

Indeed,  since  he  had  surprised  her  into  this 
frank  avowal  of  her  affections,  life  on  any  other 
terms  than  those  inevitable,  which  she  proposed 
so  naively,  so  innocently,  but  so  boldly  and 
certainly,  would  be  impossible  for  those  two. 
There  would  be  no  priest  to  bless  the  union,  but 
perhaps  God  might  approve  the  sacrifice  that  he 
would  make.  And  it  was  not  such  a  sacrifice 
either;  most  men  would  not  have  considered  it 
as  such.  In  the  world  men  would  have  gone  mad 
for  a  woman  like  Felicity.  The  glory  of  her 
heart,  the  crown  of  her  love,  would  be  worth  any 
struggle.  For  kisses  from  her  lips,  men  would 
pay  any  price. 

There  was  a  singular  sense  of  justice  in  Cap 
tain  Stephen  Cleveland.  He  recognized  that  in 
taking  her  as  now  he  must,  evidently  he  would 
[177] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

be  receiving  much  more  than  he  gave.  But  she 
need  never,  could  never,  know  it.  There  was  a 
sort  of  uneasy  feeling,  besides,  that  perhaps,  in 
time,  his  possession  of  this  sweet  and  gracious 
spirit  of  the  wooded  hill  and  the  fresh  air  and  the 
bright  wave  might  cause  him  to  grow  contented 
and  forget —  Ah,  no,  that  could  not,  must 
not  be. 

It  was  hard  to  think  connectedly  in  that  de 
lirious  moment,  for  the  rapturous  girl,  forgetful 
of  everything  else,  in  her  new  contentment,  drew 
him  closer  to  her  and  kissed  him  passionately. 
The  clouds  had  begun  to  gather  on  his  brow,  but 
Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  threw  to  the  wind 
everything.  He  did  not  deny  the  sweetness  of 
her  lips.  The  woman  tempted  him?  Ay,  so  it 
always  has  been,  even  in  Eden. 

When  Felicity's  broken  leg  recovered,  she 
went  no  more  at  night,  "like  the  quarry  slave 
scourged  to  his  dungeon,"  to  that  lonely  grotto 
on  the  high  hill.  Serenely  she  slept  sweet  in  the 
thatched  hut  under  the  palms  near  the  strand, 
with  her  head  on  his  arm,  ignorant  quite  of  the 
long  hours  he  lay  motionless  staring  up  into  the 
blackness,  wide  awake.  He  thought  of  another 

[178] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

head  that  had  lain  on  his  arm,  —  he  could  not 
help  it.  Happiness  filled  the  woman's  heart,  while 
the  man  fought  with  more  or  less  success  to  keep 
back,  to  fend  off,  to  crush  down,  recollections. 

In  idle,  happy  days  of  sweet  delusion,  the 
slings  and  arrows  of  outraged  conscience  fell 
back  blunted  and  aimless  from  the  shield  of  pos 
session.  One  touch  of  a  woman's  lips,  and  she 
had  mastered  him.  Once  he  had  returned  her 
caress,  he  fell. 

Oh,  Judas,  betrayest  thou  still  with  kisses  ? 


[179] 


CHAPTER  XIV 

SHOWING   TIES   THAT   BOUND,   NOT   SEEN    FROM 
GOLDEN  GATE  OR  ENCHANTED  ISLAND 

A  YEAR  in  the  sight  of  Him  to  whom  a 
thousand  are  but  as  a  watch  in  the  night 
is  a  small  thing;  yet  to  two  on  an  island  it  may 
be  almost  an  eternity.  Having  once  given  way  to 
the  temptation  —  and  it  is  a  wonder  that  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland  had  not  fallen  sooner  —  there 
was  no  longer  any  use  in  resistance.  And  yet 
in  sober  moments  he  fairly  loathed  himself,  feel 
ing  himself  false  to  Julia,  to  Felicity,  to  honor, 
to  manhood,  and  to  his  own  keen  sense  of  self- 
reproach. 

Yet  Felicity  was  so  sweet,  so  winsome;  her 
devotion  was  so  whole-souled,  so  absolute;  her 
naive  joy  was  so  all-pervading,  that  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland  persuaded  himself  sometimes 
that  he  really  loved  her,  and  seemed  for  the  mo 
ment  happy.  There  were  clouds  upon  the  hori 
zon  of  his  happiness,  to  be  sure.  His  passion  for 

[180] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

her,  if  his  feelings  might  be  so  called,  was,  alas, 
of  the  earth  earthy,  not  high,  not  uplifting.  He 
thought  of  other  love,  of  nobler,  sweeter,  truer 
womanhood;  and  with  these  thoughts  came 
smitings  of  shame. 

At  such  times  he  would  fain  break  away  as 
of  old  and  be  alone.  Felicity  was  terribly  exi 
gent,  and  grew  more  exacting  in  her  demands 
upon  him  with  every  passing  hour.  She  could 
not  bear  him  a  moment  out  of  her  sight.  The 
yoke  was  sometimes  galling.  Although  he  was 
ordinarily  an  even-tempered  man,  once  in  a  while 
he  could  not  quite  stand  it.  At  such  times  he 
spoke  to  her  roughly,  even  throwing  her  aside, 
rushing  away  from  her  madly.  When  he  came 
back  to  her,  as  he  always  did  after  a  while,  the 
sight  of  her  pale,  agonized  face  filled  him  with 
remorse,  which  gave  a  somewhat  fictitious  value 
to  his  usually  rather  careless  caresses. 

Poor  little  Felicity  had  no  standards  of  com 
parison  save  what  she  herself  furnished,  and  in 
the  conditions  existing  on  the  island  such  stand 
ards  were  scarcely  adequate  for  right  measure 
ment,  or  she  would  have  found  something  lack 
ing  in  his  devotion.  She  knew,  of  course,  that 

[181] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

hers  was  the  greater  love ;  but  that  seemed  to  her 
inevitable  and  to  be  expected.  In  the  main,  there 
fore,  she  was  radiantly  happy.  Yet  when  her 
lord  was  wroth  at  her,  his  anger,  or  his  indiffer 
ence,  or  his  preoccupation,  wrought  madness  in 
her  brain. 

Little  by  little  she  had  gleaned  from  him  the 
story  of  his  wife,  the  outlines  of  it  anyway,  and 
she  had  wit  enough,  womanly  instinct  enough,  to 
fathom  some  of  the  details  at  least.  What  she 
had  learned  and  what  she  imagined,  frightened 
her.  She  had  all  the  natural  jealously  of  a 
French  woman,  intensified  by  the  position  in 
which  she  found  herself.  Did  his  mind  wander, 
did  his  eyes  stray,  there  quickened  in  her  breast 
suspicion  that  he  was  forgetting  her  for  the  mo 
ment  and  recalling  the  other  woman.  She  did 
not  often  voice  these  suspicions,  in  fact  after  one 
or  two  hesitating  efforts  she  never  referred  to 
them,  but  they  were  latent  always,  and  could  be 
easily  awakened. 

What   she  might  do  under  a  really  jealous 

provocation  could  only  be  surmised.    Within  her 

lay  depths  which  he  had  never  sounded,  passions 

which  he  did  not  quite  apprehend.     He  never 

[182] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

could  sound  those  depths  or  apprehend  those 
passions  in  her,  because  he  did  not  love  enough. 
These  secrets  yield  to  nothing  less  than  the  abso 
lute.  Only  love  can  understand  love,  only  pas 
sion  can  fathom  passion. 

Her  only  means  of  retaining  him,  of  dispell 
ing  his  gloom,  and  of  obliterating  the  thoughts 
that  came  unbidden  —  to  which  she  was  not  privy 
and  of  which  she  was  not  the  burden  —  was  to  re 
double  her  efforts  to  please,  to  disclose  to  him 
more  plainly,  more  unreservedly,  the  secrets  of 
her  heart,  to  conceive  new  allurements,  to  sub 
mit  herself  more  absolutely  to  his  will  and 
pleasure.  Alas,  poor  Felicity!  Sometimes  he 
trembled  on  the  awful  verge  of  satiety  in  her 
overwhelming  affection,  sometimes  he  almost 
grew  tired  of  her  presence. 

Yet,  he  was  generally  very  tender  and  sweet 
to  her.  Sometimes  he  threw  aside  repentance, 
and  they  wandered  hand  in  hand  like  two  chil 
dren  over  hill  and  valley,  playing  with  life,  play 
ing  with  happiness.  He  knew  that  the  structure 
they  were  erecting  in  this  idyllic  Eden  was  like 
the  famous  house  that  was  builded  on  the  sand, 
the  sand  of  a  wrong  relationship,  the  sand  of  a 
[183] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

one-sided  affection,  the  sand  of  a  violation,  how 
ever  it  might  be  excusable,  of  a  moral  law,  not 
the  less  actual  because  he  alone  perceived  it. 
What  would  happen  when  the  rains  descended 
and  the  floods  came  and  the  winds  blew  and 
beat  upon  the  house?  And  he  hated  himself 
sometimes  the  more  for  his  dreams  and  for  his 
words. 

Daily  the  two  sat  on  the  high  cliff  and  watched 
the  seas,  he  with  emotions  and  desires,  hopeful 
yet  apprehensive,  she  with  personal  indifference, 
simply  because  he  wished  it. 

After  all  his  circumspection,  he  had  in  the  end 
recklessly  plunged  into  this  affair  —  was  it  only 
an  affair  with  him?  —  because  he  saw  no  future 
but  the  island  and  the  woman.  Suppose  that  he 
had  seen  wrongly,  and  that  the  world  should  once 
more  seek  them  and  offer  them  means  of  return 
to  it,  what  then? 

The  world  forgetting,  as  by  the  world  forgot, 
was  her  motto,  could  she  have  phrased  it.  Carpe 
diem  —  enjoy  the  day  —  that  was  all.  It  was 
enough  for  her,  not  enough  for  him. 

Of  late  for  some  months  strange  feelings,  be 
got  of  unwonted  conditions,  yearnings  eternal  as 

[184] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

womanhood,  unexplainable  emotions,  had  come 
upon  her.  He  had  told  her  something  of  what 
was  toward,  but  it  is  not  in  the  bounds  of  mere 
man  to  enlighten  a  woman's  heart  upon  those 
matters.  Instinct  revealed  more  to  her,  but  it 
was  not  until  after  one  certain  day  of  exquisite 
pain  that  a  thin  shrill  voice  from  a  little  figure 
lying  by  her  side,  brought  consciousness  to  her 
of  the  mystery  of  life  from  life.  Then  at  last 
she  understood.  The  crisis  in  the  life  of  poor 
little  Felicity,  in  the  life  of  every  woman,  was 
reached :  she  became  a  mother. 

It  is  not  within  the  power  of  this  poor  author 
to  describe  what  she  felt  when  the  small  lips 
tugged  away  manfully  at  her  full  breast.  Cer 
tainly  she  believed  exultantly  the  tie  that  binds 
was  woven  between  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland 
and  herself  now.  After  the  pain  and  peril  of 
child-birth  this  thought,  added  to  the  new-born 
joys  of  motherhood,  gave  her  infinite  confidence 
and  compensation.  Whatever  the  other  woman 
had  been  to  him,  Felicity  had  overpassed  her  in 
this,  she  decided. 

What  were  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland's 
thoughts  as  he  looked  down  at  the  baby  that  his 
[185] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

own  hands  placed  upon  her  arm?  He  himself 
had  delivered  his  own  son.  He  had  been  in  fear 
ful  apprehension  lest  he  should  make  some  mis 
take,  but  nature  and  perfect  health  and  absolute 
simplicity  of  living  had  brought  about  a  safe 
deliverance,  which,  I  am  persuaded,  in  spite  of 
the  curse  of  Eden,  was  in  the  intention  of  the 
Divine. 

And  Felicity  had  been  to  him  only  a  toy,  a 
plaything,  the  solace  of  idle  hours,  the  resort  of 
a  soul  which  had  little  else  before  it.  Now  it  was 
all  different.  Although  she  had  reached  a  wo 
man's  years,  she  had  been  a  child  until  the 
quickening  moment;  and  now  she  was  a  mother, 
the  mother  of  his  child! 

Good  God!  he  thought,  what  did  that  mean? 
The  tie  before  had  been  vague,  indefinite,  it 
might  perchance  be  broken;  but  now  he  was 
bound  to  her  forever.  No  link  of  steel  could  be 
more  rigid  and  more  constraining.  For  his 
honor,  her  helplessness,  his  acquiescence  in  her 
passion,  had  forged  the  shackles. 

Suppose  by  any  chance  Julia  Cleveland  had 
been  saved  and  was  alive  now!  It  was  unthink 
able.  Now  he  prayed  it  might  not  be,  or  if  she 

[186] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

had  been  saved  and  was  alive,  that  she  would 
never  know.  It  was  the  first  time  such  a  prayer 
had  ever  arisen  in  his  heart.  He  looked  down 
into  the  face  of  the  woman  who  had  borne  his  son 
and  thought — God  forgive  him!  —  at  that  very 
moment  when  her  whole  soul  was  going  out  to 
him,  that  he  still  loved  another  woman!  Yet,  he 
was  so  far  true,  he  so  far  accepted  the  situation, 
as  now  to  hope  that  if  the  other  woman  lived,  she 
might  never  know.  He  resolved  that  if  by 
chance  they  were  rescued,  he  would  never  tell  his 
story.  He  and  his  wife  were  severed  forever. 
Baby  hands  pushed  away  her  image,  and  Felic 
ity,  little  Felicity,  must  take  her  place. 

Her  hand  was  stretched  to  him  as  he  sat  by 
her  side. 

'  You  look  sad,"  came  from  Felicity  in  a  faint 
voice.  "Aren't  you  pleased  with  me?" 

"Very  pleased,"  answered  Captain  Stephen 
Cleveland  smiling,  forcing  himself  to  do  it. 

"And  aren't  you  proud  of  your  little  son?" 

"  Very  proud." 

"  Are  you,"  she  hesitated  —  had  she  not  been 
so  weak,  perhaps  she  would  not  have  said  it,  but 
it  came  —  "are  you  thinking  about  that  other" 

[187] 


—  again  she  hesitated  —  "  woman? "  she  added 
at  last. 

"No,"  said  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland,  lying 
bravely  and  like  a  gentleman;  and  Felicity  half 
guessed  he  was  lying,  but  was  glad  of  the  affec 
tion  that  would  fain  spare  her. 

"If  you  were  thinking  of  any  one  but  of  me 
at  this  hour,  I  should  die,"  she  went  on  piteously. 

"And  leave  your  little  son?" 

"  He  does  not  need  me  any  more  than  I  need 
you." 

"  In  your  need  I  am  here,  as  in  his  need  you 
are  here." 

"  And  do  you  love  me  very  much? " 

"Yes,"  said  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland,  and 
this  time  truthfully  enough  —  for  the  time  being, 
anyway. 

Indeed,  who  could  help  it?  She  was  so  sweet, 
so  tender,  so  delicately  beautiful,  and  there  was 
so  much  appeal  in  the  little  head  pillowed  on  her 
round  young  arm,  held  close  to  her  full  sweet 
young  breast. 

"More  than  anything  in  the  world?"  she 
pleaded,  instinctively  realizing  that  as  never 

[188] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

before,  this  was  her  hour,  and  she  would  better 
make  the  most  of  it. 

"  Now,  you  know,"  came  the  ready  answer, 
and  he  was  glad  of  the  opportunity  for  turning 
her  thoughts,  "  I  have  got  to  divide  my  affec 
tions  between  you  and  "  —  he  stopped  suddenly, 
and  she  looked  at  him  with  such  breathless  ter 
ror  that  he  hurried  on  —  "  between  you  and  our 
little  son." 

Oh,  the  relief  of  that  conclusion  to  her!  It  was 
like  the  cessation  of  those  labor  pains  of  a  few 
hours  before.  Yet  she  was  jealous  even  of  her 
own  child. 

"  If  I  thought  you  loved  him  more  than  you 
do  me,  I  could  wish  that  he  had  never  come," 
she  responded  passionately. 

Poor  little  Felicity! 

When  she  slept  that  night  he  went  out  alone 
under  the  stars,  and  the  pains  through  which  she 
had  gone  were  no  keener  and  sharper  than  those 
tearing  his  soul;  yet  for  him  there  was  no 
deliverance. 

Is  the  reader  impatient  with  Captain  Stephen 
Cleveland?  Could  a  man  love  little  Felicity 

[189] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

upon  an  island  and  yet  be  true  in  heart  and  soul 
to  a  woman  far  away?  Perhaps  only  to  the 
remembrance  of  a  woman  who  once  had  been?  I 
cannot  tell,  I  have  never  been  in  that  position, 
and  yet  I  think  it  possible. 

What  was  to  be  the  outcome?  It  was  pres 
ently  to  be  determined,  for  at  that  hour  there  was 
sailing  from  the  Golden  Gate  a  ship.  Upon  its 
quarter-deck  stood  a  woman  —  she  owned  the 
ship.  By  her  side  was  the  old  boatswain,  his  fin 
gers  itching  for  a  silver  pipe  —  a  "  bo's'n's  call  " 
—  he  was  so  eager  to  be  at  work ;  yet  he  was  only 
a  passenger,  he  lived  aft,  berthed  in  the  cabin, 
and  was  her  friend. 

A  carefully  selected  crew,  a  band  of  officers 
devoted  to  her  service,  manned  and  sailed  the 
ship.  She  had  cleared  for  the  South  Seas  on  a 
trading  cruise  and  those  signing  her  articles 
realized  that  it  might  be  years  before  they  re 
turned  to  San  Francisco.  She  was  bound  on  far 
voyages,  into  unknown  waters,  to  search 
unknown  islands. 

And  old  Captain  Crowninshield  was  in  com 
mand.  The  woman  had  riches  untold.  She  had 
written  to  him  since  she  discovered  that  she  could 

[190] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

carry  out  her  plan,  and  by  happy  chance  her 
letter  found  him  disengaged  at  home  in  New 
Bedford,  and  he  had  come  out  willingly  and 
gladly  to  assist  her.  His  great  experience  was  of 
vast  service  to  her.  Although  she  was  feverishly 
in  a  hurry,  he  had  taken  his  time,  and  the  result 
was  that  the  ship  in  its  equipment  and  personnel 
was  unsurpassed.  She  was  crammed  to  the 
hatches  with  provisions  and  trading  supplies,  but 
the  chief  element  of  her  cargo  was  hope. 

The  woman  stood  aft  on  the  quarter-deck,  but 
she  did  not  look  astern  at  the  fast  receding  shore ; 
her  gaze  was  thrown  ahead  through  the  Golden 
Gate,  out  over  that  long  stretch  of  unfrequented 
seas,  in  which  she  prayed  she  might  find  him 
whom  she  loved. 

Many  eyes  watched  the  full  crew  swiftly  cover 
the  broad  yards  crossing  the  lofty  spars  with  new 
and  snowy  canvas.  The  faint  echo  of  cheering 
with  which  she  was  wafted  on  her  voyage  soon 
died  away,  as  the  ship  swept  rapidly  onward. 

The  interested  spectators  presently  set  about 
their  several  tasks,  or  relapsed  into  idleness. 
Swiftly  the  ship  made  her  way  across  the  beauti 
ful  bay  and  out  through  the  Golden  Gate.  Upon 

[191] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

one  of  the  headlands  a  man  stood  staring,  his  eyes 
upon  the  ship.  He  had  placed  at  her  disposal 
one-third,  to  himself  one-third,  and  to  the  old 
boatswain  one-third,  of  the  mine,  the  great  Cleve 
land-Ellison  Mine,  for  so  they  had  called  it. 

He  had  not  sought  her  out,  or  spoken  to  her, 
during  the  long  year  that  had  elapsed  since  he 
had  seen  her  go  down  the  mountain  toward  the 
sunset,  leaving  him  alone.  He  did  not  seek  to 
speak  to  her  now.  He  was  entirely  aware  of  all 
that  she  had  done  and  of  all  that  she  had  hoped; 
yet  he  could  not  trust  himself  to  see  her,  for  he 
still  loved  her  with  a  great  passion.  So  he  stood 
alone  on  one  of  the  great  lintels  of  that 
mighty  door  and  watched  the  ship  go  out  to  sea. 
Ah,  with  how  many  heart-breaks  have  men  and 
women  stood  upon  deserted  shores  and  watched 
ships  go  out  to  sea! 

She  did  not  look  in  his  direction;  no  uncon 
scious  sense  of  his  presence  turned  her  eyes  away 
for  one  moment  from  that  goal  upon  which  they 
were  fixed.  He  stared  while  the  ship  grew  less 
and  less,  hull  down  upon  the  horizon,  her  topsails 
sinking  beneath  the  waves.  He  stared  after  her 
until  night  came  and  the  stars  looked  pityingly 

[192] 


down  upon  his  voiceless  agony.  So  the  uncon 
scious  woman  left  unhappiness  behind  and,  if  she 
but  knew  it,  went  to  meet  unhappiness  before. 

Let  her  enjoy  her  hour  while  she  may;  never, 
perhaps,  shall  such  another  come  to  her,  however 
long  she  may  live,  and  whatever  life  may  hold. 


[193] 


CHAPTER  XV 

HOW   THE   WORLD   AT   LAST   CAME,   AND   WHAT   IT 

OFFERED  TO  THOSE  BY  WHOM  AND  TO 

WHOM  IT  CAME 

SOMEHOW  or  other,  the  baby  made  a  differ 
ence.  Babies  always  make  a  difference, 
perhaps,  but  in  this  instance  the  change  was 
very  marked.  For  one  thing,  try  as  he 
might,  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  could  not  dis 
guise  from  Felicity  —  I  had  almost  said  his  wife, 
reflecting  what  was  sometimes  his  own  thought 
when  he  was  caught  napping  —  that  he  cared 
more  for  young  Stephen,  for  so  he  called  him, 
than  for  his  mother;  and  this  thought  filled  her 
with  exquisite  anguish.  Words  are  lacking  to 
describe  the  passion  with  which  the  man  had  in 
spired  her.  By  an  unfortunate  change  entirely 
understandable,  the  more  irrevocably  the  man 
became  committed  to  the  present  woman,  the 
more  persistently  the  absent  woman  recurred  to 
his  thoughts.  The  stronger  the  ties  that  bound 

[  194] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

him  to  Felicity  on  that  island,  the  more  consum 
ing  became  his  longing  to  get  away  —  from  it? 
—  from  her? 

The  irrevocable,  the  irremediable,  the  un 
changeable,  is  of  all  burdens  the  hardest  to  be 
borne.  While  he  only  played  with  life  and  love 
and  Felicity,  the  situation  was  not  so  tremendous ; 
but  when  it  became  so  intensely  intricate  and  per 
sonal  and  he  could  see  its  seriousness  every  time 
he  looked  at  the  baby  boy,  affairs  took  upon 
themselves  another  complexion.  In  a  way  he 
loved  the  woman;  she  satisfied  at  least  one  part 
of  his  nature,  but  in  other  ways  not  so.  He  had 
experience  of  higher  companionship  to  look  back 
upon,  remembrances  of  a  nobler  union,  the  pos 
session  of  a  greater  personality  had  been  his.  To 
that  side  of  his  life  little  Felicity  ministered  not 
at  all. 

She  had  nothing  to  offer  him  but  her  love. 
The  experience  of  centuries  might  have  told  this 
child  of  nature,  had  she  possessed  ability  to  read 
it  or  understand  it,  that  love  alone  was  not 
enough. 

Naturally  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  was  de 
voted  to  his  bright,  healthy,  sunny  youngster; 
[195] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

but  even  he  sometimes  pointed  a  moral,  adorned 
a  tale,  that  was  hard  for  Captain  Stephen  Cleve 
land  to  hear.  He  was  the  unplaced  factor  that 
disturbed  the  equation,  he  was  the  irremediable 
condition. 

Felicity  would  watch  him  playing  with  the 
child,  and  suddenly  she  would  see  the  cloud  come 
over  his  face.  He  would  place  the  boy  in  her 
arms  and  turn  away,  and  she  would  have  to  fight 
hard  against  the  inclination  to  thrust  the  child 
away  from  her  and  follow  him. 

Since  they  had  entered  into  these  closer  and 
dearer  relations,  she  had  understood  what  she  had 
never  comprehended  before,  what  the  other 
woman  had  been  to  him.  This  developed  a 
certain  unwonted  melancholy  in  her  soul.  Some 
times  she  thought  her  heart  would  break,  some 
times  she  was  afraid.  Often  when  he  left  her, 
she  would  walk  upon  the  strand  and  look  to  the 
sea.  Sometimes  she  climbed  up  to  where  she  had 
stood  the  first  time  that  he  saw  her — the  dizzy 
verge  of  the  cliff — and  stared  down  on  the 
mighty  pulsations  of  the  ocean  beneath  her,  the 
baby  clasped  in  her  arms. 

Then  with  growing  frequency  she  wondered  if 
[196] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

it  would  not  be  better,  after  all,  to — but  that 
would  leave  him  alone!  Felicity  had  begun  to 
understand  just  how  much  and  how  little  the  man 
she  worshipped  loved  her.  She  was  more  or  less 
necessary  to  him  there  and  now.  She  was  in 
some  ways  indispensable.  She  could  not  leave 
him  alone,  yet  there  was  a  certain  fierce  joy  to 
think  how  he  would  miss  her  if  she  were  absent. 
He  would  know  what  she  had  become  to  him ;  he 
would  understand  and  fathom  then,  if  not  be 
fore,  the  love  that  he  had  lost.  And  Felicity 
would  almost  have  died  for  that,  but  that  she 
would  not  be  there  to  see.  And  but  that  she  had 
only  the  vaguest  ideas  of  existence  elsewhere, 
whence  she  might  perhaps  look  down  upon  him, 
she  might  have  done  it  in  some  moment  of  mis 
erable  jealousy  and  dissatisfaction. 

As  she  lived  with  him  she  forgot  everything 
else ;  her  world  was  on  the  island,  nay,  her  world 
was  within  the  circle  of  his  arms,  even  the  boy 
occupying  a  secondary  place  in  her  heart.  The 
world  for  him  was  by  no  means  within  her  arms ; 
it  was  very  far  away,  yet  not  so  far  but  that  he 
could  hear  its  call.  It  grew  to  him  louder  and 
more  insistent. 

[197] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

For  a  time  he  had  been  in  a  measure  contented, 
he  was  so  no  more.  That  was  why  he  sat  for 
hours  with  the  boy  between  his  knees  on  the  cliff- 
head,  little  Felicity  lying  upon  the  grass  at  his 
side,  her  hand  touching  him  tenderly  now  and 
again.  At  such  times  he  little  noted  the  woman. 
She  looked  at  him,  he  at  the  sea ;  that  was  the  pity 
of  it.  Their  desires  no  more  paralleled  than  did 
their  glances. 

Felicity  often  wondered  what  they  would  do 
if  a  ship  should  come.  It  would  take  them  away, 
of  course ;  the  man,  the  woman,  and  the  boy  would 
leave  the  little  island  and  go  out  into  the  world 
of  which  Felicity  could  remember  little  or  noth 
ing.  What  she  could  recall  filled  her  with  fore 
bodings.  They  would  abandon  that  island;  and 
if  the  story  of  Eden  had  recurred  to  Felicity,  it 
is  certain  she  would  have  declared  that  her  emo 
tions  and  her  thoughts  were  not  to  be  surpassed 
even  by  those  of  the  first  woman  at  the  sight  of 
the  Angel  of  the  Flaming  Sword. 

So  far  as  she  ever  did  pray,  this  poor  child  of 
nature  prayed  that  no  ship  might  come.  Yet,  as 
she  had  evidence  of  the  growing  longing  of  her 
lord,  of  his  increasing  impatience,  of  his  inten- 

[198] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

sifying  disappointment,  she  accused  herself  of 
disloyalty,  treachery,  in  that  her  thoughts  were 
not  as  his. 

There  is  an  element  of  selfishness  in  most  pas 
sions,  and  it  was  not  absent  from  Felicity's  heart, 
but  there  were  capabilities  latent  in  it  of  a  self- 
abnegation  which  would  be  absolute.  At  some 
moments  the  girl  would  have  sacrificed  her  soul 
for  him  without  a  thought  of  consequence,  with 
out  a  moment  of  hesitation. 

After  her  reference  in  that  birth  hour,  she  had 
only  once  mentioned  the  other  woman,  whose 
name  she  did  not  even  know.  She  tried  to  intro 
duce  the  topic  once,  but  Captain  Stephen  Cleve 
land  thrust  the  boy  he  had  been  holding  into  her 
arms,  and  harshly  forbade  her  to  refer  to  the 
subject  again,  if  she  valued  her  peace  and  hap 
piness,  and  then  broke  away.  And  Felicity, 
appalled,  obeyed  him.  Indeed,  she  knew  no  will 
but  his,  but  she  had  not  forgotten. 

Picture  them  there  one  morning  upon  the  high 
headland  where  the  trees  grew  nearest  to  it,  the 
baby,  a  year  old,  playing  at  their  feet.  They  sat 
side  by  side,  and  his  arm  held  her  close  to  him; 
with  the  other  hand  he  played  with  her  long 
[199] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

slender  fingers,  he  even  bent  to  kiss  them,  he 
laughed  at  some  of  her  playful  fancies.  Some 
good  angel  possessed  him  for  the  moment. 
Felicity  was  perfectly  happy.  The  moment 
passed,  he  lifted  his  eyes  and  glanced  idly  down 
the  hill  across  the  strand.  There  suddenly  shot 
into  the  compass  of  his  vision  the  white  sails  of 
a  great  ship! 

She  had  come  up  from  the  other  side ;  they  had 
not  thought  to  look  that  way,  expecting  nothing. 
They  had  had  no  warning,  and  here  she  was 
rounding  the  point  of  the  island,  luffing  to  the 
wind,  for  a  beat  along  the  reef  toward  the  en 
trance.  It  was  easy  to  be  seen  from  the  decks, 
for  the  sea  ran  blue  and  smooth  there  between 
lines  of  white-topped  breakers  on  either  hand. 

For  a  moment  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland 
looked  amazed,  and  then  he  sprang  to  his  feet 
with  such  furious  haste  that  the  woman  was 
thrown  carelessly  aside.  He  stood  staring. 

"  Great  God!  "  he  exclaimed.  "  It  is  a  ship,  at 
last." 

He  forgot  everything  in  his  mad  excitement. 
His  heart  throbbed,  his  pulses  beat,  his  blood 
raced  through  his  veins,  he  turned  away ;  another 

[200] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

second,  and  he  would  have  been  gone.  Felicity 
threw  herself  toward  him  and  caught  him  se 
curely  by  the  ankle,  as  he  had  caught  her  by  the 
ankle,  how  many  years  before! 

"  Wait ! "  she  cried,  imploringly. 

"I  can't  wait!  Don't  you  see  it's  a  ship?  It 
might  pass  by." 

"  Don't  signal  her!  "  cried  the  woman.  '  They 
will  separate  us,  —  they  will  take  you  away." 

"  I  won't  go  without  you,"  answered  the  man. 
"  I  will  take  you  along,  —  we  will  go  back  to 
the  world." 

"Where  the  other  woman  is!"  cried  Felicity 
anguishedly.  "  I  would  rather  stay  here  alone 
with  you." 

"Nonsense,"  said  the  man,  roughly.  "I  am 
bound  to  you  forever,"  he  added,  without  realiz 
ing  exactly  what  he  was  saying;  "and  if  they 
take  me,  they  must  take  you  and  — " 

"But  the  other  woman?" 

"  There  is  no  other  woman.  You  must  let  me 
go.  Take  the  child  and  follow  after,"  he  cried, 
wrenching  himself  free. 

He  was  mad  with  excitement.  He  turned 
without  another  word  or  glance  and  plunged 

[201] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

over  the  cliff,  and  by  the  most  dangerous  way 
descended  rapidly  toward  the  strand. 

Felicity  threw  herself  down,  buried  her  face  in 
her  hands  and  sobbed.  Anxiety  was  followed  by 
a  premonition  of  danger  she  could  not  explain. 
It  was  the  baby  crawling  near  her,  a  tiny  chubby 
hand  upon  her  cheek,  that  recalled  her  to  her 
senses.  How  long  she  had  lain  there  she  did  not 
know  —  a  few  moments,  perhaps  —  but  measured 
in  suffering,  a  lifetime.  She  saw  it  all  now. 
This  was  the  beginning  of  the  end.  How  ten 
uous,  after  all,  was  the  tie  that  bound!  Was 
there  any  real  tie  in  strands  that  were  not 
interwoven  with  cords  of  love?  Felicity  knew 
little  of  honor  and  of  its  so-called  bindings, 
indeed ! 

She  raised  her  head  at  last,  drew  the  baby  into 
her  arms,  and  looked  down  toward  the  ship.  It 
was  a  heavenly  morning,  the  breeze  falling.  The 
sails  of  the  ship  had  been  so  placed  that  she  was 
at  rest  opposite  the  opening  in  the  barrier  reef. 
Felicity  saw  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  standing 
upon  the  strand  where  he  had  once  come  ashore, 
a  poor  battered  thing,  crawling  out  of  the  water, 
while  she  unseen  had  watched  him,  wondering 

[202] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

what  the  broken  man  cast  up  by  the  sea  might 
mean  to  her. 

Now  he  was  waving  frantically  the  bough  of 
a  tree  which  he  had  torn  from  its  stem  as  he  ran. 
Felicity  divined  that  he  had  been  seen,  that  the 
world  was  knocking  at  her  door  and  would  soon 
effect  an  entrance.  She  must  be  there,  too. 
How  had  she  allowed  Captain  Stephen  Cleve 
land  to  escape  from  her?  She  must  be  by  his  side 
when  that  happened.  She  could  not  trust  him 
for  a  moment  alone  with  that  fearful  world. 

With  frantic  terror  she  lifted  the  baby  to  her 
shoulder  and  started  down  the  longer  way 
through  the  trees.  She  was  trembling  so  that  she 
could  not  have  ventured,  even  had  she  been  alone, 
the  steep  descent  of  the  cuff.  As  she  left  the 
plateau,  she  saw  a  small  boat  drop  from  the  side 
of  the  ship  and  make  its  way  to  the  shore.  She 
must  hurry  if  she  would  be  in  time. 

What  of  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  on  the 
strand?  Who  shall  describe  his  emotions?  They 
were  very  simple  for  the  moment:  the  unex 
pected,  the  improbable,  had  at  last  happened. 
Here  were  men  who  would  take  him  from  this 
ghastly  island  with  his  two  companions,  baby  and 
[203] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

woman;  who  would  restore  him  to  his  kind,  en 
able  him  to  do  a  man's  work,  to  live  again.  That 
was  all,  that  was  enough. 

He  was  so  excited,  and  the  distance  was  so 
great,  that  he  did  not  notice  that  the  last  person 
who  descended  the  ship's  side  into  the  small  boat 
was  a  woman.  He  threw  aside  his  verdant  signal 
—  it  had  served  its  purpose  —  and  stood,  with 
clasped  hands  and  heaving  breast  and  staring 
eyes,  at  the  very  water's  edge.  The  trees  ran 
close  to  the  shore  at  the  upper  end  of  the  strand 
opposite  the  opening  through  the  barrier,  and 
there  was  a  thick  little  undergrowth  back  of 
where  he  was,  a  fine  place  in  which  to  lie  hid  and 
watch  and  listen. 

As  the  boat's  keel  grated  along  the  sand,  Felic 
ity  reached  the  shore.  Coming  down,  she  had 
caught  a  glimpse  of  the  boat,  and  it  seemed  to 
her  that  one  of  those  who  sat  in  the  after  part 
was  a  woman.  There  was  only  one  other  woman 
in  the  world  for  little  Felicity;  she  leaped  to  the 
conclusion  that  this  was  she.  Therefore  she 
stopped  and  lay  hidden  in  the  coppice  a  few 
yards  back  of  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland.  She 
would  wait  before  she  disclosed  herself.  She 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

would  see  who  this  was  and  what  would  happen. 
She  quieted  the  baby  by  giving  him  the  breast  — 
oh,  what  milk  his  tiny  lips  drew  from  it  then !  — 
and  with  every  nerve  tense,  with  her  heart  chok 
ing,  dying,  she  watched  the  boat  touch  the  strand 
and  swing  broadside  to  the  shore. 

An  old  man  clambered  out.  With  a  sudden 
awful  sense  of  shock  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland 
recognized  him.  It  was  Foresman,  the  boat 
swain,  to  whom  had  been  committed  the  charge 
of  the  woman,  he  had  loved  and  lost.  And  there 
by  his  side  —  God !  could  it  be  ?  —  she  stood,  the 
sunlight  on  her  bright  hair,  her  blue  eyes  shining, 
her  hands  outstretched.  Poised  on  the  gunwale 
for  a  moment,  like  a  bird  she  leaped  upon  the 
strand  and  ran  toward  the  man,  who  was  stand 
ing  petrified,  rooted  to  the  spot,  incapable  of 
motion. 

"Stephen!"  she  cried,  "Stephen  Cleveland!" 
—  the  old  familiar  words.  "  Thank  God,  I  have 
found  —  " 

"Julia,"  said  the  man,  hoarsely.  "My  wife! 
Great  God,  xny  wife!" 

He  fell  to  his  knees  at  her  feet,  her  arms  went 
around  his  shoulders,  she  bent  low  over  him. 

[205  ] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

Old  Foresman  showed  himself  the  gentleman 
then;  he  clambered  back  into  the  boat  quickly. 

"  Lads,"  he  cried,  "  let 's  row  up  the  lagoon  a 
bit,  eyes  seaward." 

And  the  men  obeyed.  There  were  to  be  no 
further  witnesses,  if  they  could  help  it,  to  this 
joyous  meeting  on  the  strand. 

The  wretched  husband,  with  buried  head, 
crushed  with  thoughts  tumultuous,  terrible, 
which  he  could  not  control,  knelt  before  the  wife, 
the  brave  and  splendid  woman  who  had  been  so 
faithful  to  him,  who  had  dreamed  of  him  and  at 
last  had  come  to  seek  him,  bringing  deliverance 
in  her  hands.  This  was  the  woman  he  loved, 
whom  he  had  so  frightfully  wronged. 

Ah,  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland,  was  this  the 
only  woman  you  had  wronged? 

The  boat  had  rounded  a  little  curve  and  was 
out  of  view,  but  there  was  another  watcher  of 
that  meeting;  another  woman  saw  the  light  in 
Julia  Cleveland's  eyes,  and  divined  what  it 
meant.  As  in  a  flash  the  situation  was  revealed 
to  her  —  this  woman  was  his  wife,  and  he  loved 
her! 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  lifted  his  face,  and 
[206] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

Felicity  saw  that  in  it  which  she  had  never  been 
able  to  awaken.  The  world  had  come,  —  the 
world  and  the  one  woman.  She  was  dispossessed. 
There  was  no  place  for  her.  It  was  a  big  world, 
he  had  said ;  but  it  was  not  large  enough  for  little 
Felicity  and  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  and  that 
other  woman. 

She  was  a  creature  of  mad  and  sudden  im 
pulse,  this  islander,  but  she  seemed  to  realize  that 
whatever  happened,  however  long  she  might 
speculate,  there  was  only  one  conclusion  to  which 
she  could  come,  she  and  her  baby  boy.  They 
were  too  many,  there  was  no  place  for  them.  She 
did  not  trust  herself  to  look  longer ;  she  gathered 
the  boy  up,  stifled  his  cry,  and  slipped  noise 
lessly  away.  When  she  got  a  safe  distance  she 
ran  as  she  had  never  run  before.  So  she  breasted 
the  steep  of  that  high  hill  that  sunny  morning. 
Presently  she  burst  through  the  trees.  She  would 
have  been  glad  if  they  had  screened  her  to  the 
very  end,  but  it  was  impossible;  there  was  one 
place  only  where  it  was  practicable  for  her  to 
carry  out  her  intention,  and  that  was  in  the  open. 

For  a  moment  she  stood  with  her  baby  in  her 
arms,  silhouetted  against  the  sky  line.  One 

[207] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

glance  backward  she  could  not  deny  herself,  one 
faint  hope  trembled  in  her  bosom,  —  there  might 
be  something  that  would  give  her  a  respite.  But 
no,  the  man  whom  she  loved  was  standing  now,  his 
arm  about  the  woman,  with  her  hand  in  his  — 
the  very  position,  save  that  they  were  standing, 
which  he  and  she  had  occupied  one  short  hour 
since. 

It  was  all  over.  Little  Felicity  stood  poised, 
one  foot  thrust  backward,  one  projecting  slightly 
over  the  dizzy  edge.  She  stared  down  below  at 
the  wild  sea  breaking  upon  the  rocks.  What 
kind  of  a  prayer  came  from  poor  little  Felicity's 
heart  to  the  unknown  God,  there  upon  the  verge  ? 
Alas!  I  know  not. 

She  loved  much,  perhaps  that  entitled  her  to 
the  pity  of  Him  who  loves  most  of  all,  and  she 
knew  but  little  of  that  world  in  which  she  had  no 
place.  Perhaps  in  some  other  world  they  might 
find  room  for  this  poor  untutored  child  of  na 
ture,  if  not  of  God,  and  her  little  laughing  baby 
boy. 

For  the  first  time  since  she  had  come  upon  the 
shore,  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  who  had  at 
last  risen  to  his  feet,  looked  away  from  his  wife. 

[208] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

By  some  impulse,  his  eyes  lifted  and  he  saw 
Felicity  standing  on  the  very  verge,  where  he  had 
seen  her  standing  so  many  years  before,  and  she 
saw  him.  As  he  stared,  she  waved  a  slender 
hand  in  gesture  of  farewell,  then  closer  the  baby 
she  clasped  to  her  bosom.  Captain  Stephen 
Cleveland  stood  speechless,  his  wife  by  his  side 
following  his  gaze. 

"Who  is  that?"  she  demanded  with  sudden 
harshness. 

"Felicity!  Great  God!"  cried  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland. 

There  was  a  white  flash  in  the  sunlight,  and 
she  was  gone  and  the  baby  with  her. 

The  man  and  the  woman  upon  the  strand  stood 
appalled;  the  man  took  a  step  forward,  stag 
gered,  clasped  his  hands  to  his  face,  crashed 
down  like  a  stricken  oak.  The  woman  stooped 
by  his  side;  she  did  not  touch  him;  she  did 
not  know  whether  he  was  dead  or  not;  she 
did  not  know  whether  she  would  be  glad  or  sorry. 

"  Oh,"  she  murmured,  wringing  her  hands  in 
long-drawn,  exquisite  moments  of  agony, 
"  was  it  for  this  that  I  sought  you  and  found 


you? 


[209] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

Sic  transit  Felicitas! 

So  in  the  very  moment  of  hope's  fruition  for 
these  two  daughters  of  Eve,  joy  passed.  Of  two 
women  grinding  at  the  mill  of  life,  one  shall  be 
taken  and  another  left;  and  which  shall  be 
counted  the  more  miserable? 

O  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland,  for  how  much 
hast  thou  to  answer,  as  thou  liest  there  mercifully 
unconscious,  upon  that  shining  strand? 


[210] 


BOOK  V 
HEARTS  ENVENOMED 


CHAPTER  XVI 

HOW  LITTLE  FELICITY  WAS  PERFORCE  LEFT 
BEHIND 

THEY  buried  little  Felicity  and  her  baby  on 
the  high  plateau  whence  she  had  leaped 
into  eternity.  The  sailors  of  the  Stephen  Cleve 
land,  for  so  fond  Julia  had  named  her  new  ship, 
dug  down  through  the  shallow  covering  of  soil 
to  the  bed  rock  and  thereafter  blasted  out  a 
deeper  excavation  to  hold  the  poor  remains  of  the 
sadly  misnamed  woman  and  her  child. 

Foresman,  who  was  of  a  deeply  religious  na 
ture  —  remember,  dear  reader,  he  was  a  sailor  of 
the  olden  time!  —  read  the  burial  service  over 
what  remained  of  the  two.  On  one  side  of  the 
narrow  opening  stood  Captain  Stephen  Cleve 
land,  on  the  other  side  Julia,  his  wife.  That  open 
grave  separated  them  now;  would  it  do  so  for 
ever?  Face  to  face,  they  were  now  farther  apart 
than  when  the  wide  seas  rolled  between. 

Captain  Crowninshield,  his  officers,  and  such  of 
[213] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

the  seamen  as  could  be  spared  clustered  at  the 
foot  of  the  grave,  silent  yet  appreciative  specta 
tors  of  what  was  happening.  The  tragedy  was 
plain  to  the  dullest.  Even  the  most  unobservant 
could  see  the  problem,  the  answer  to  which  not 
the  wisest  could  discover. 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland,  clothed  once  more 
in  the  garments  of  civilization,  which  Julia's  fore 
thought  had  caused  to  be  provided  for  him  on  the 
chance  of  her  finding  him  when  she  left  San 
Francisco  a  year  before,  looked  from  the  hard- 
set  face  of  his  wife  into  the  equally  set  face  of  — 
how  shall  I  describe  her?  Alasl  now  she  has 
naught  but  her  ill-sorted  name  of  Felicity  —  and 
the  little  baby  she  had  brought  into  and  taken 
out  of  life,  and  he  wondered  how  it  would 
all  end. 

Felicity's  face  was  not  hurt  (frightful  bruises 
and  breakings  bodily  elsewhere  were  mercifully 
shrouded  from  view  by  the  clean  soft  white  in 
which  they  had  enwrapped  her) ;  it  was  a  little 
smiling  and  very  tender;  it  had  taken  no  hurt 
from  her  plunge;  and  the  little  baby  on  her  arm 
looked  as  if  he  might  just  then  have  fallen  asleep. 
So  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  had  often  seen 
[214] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

them  in  days  gone  by,  so  he  was  ever  to  remem 
ber  them  in  days  to  come. 

Manlike,  ashamed  of  himself  for  that  collapse 
on  the  sands  whence  he  witnessed  that  wild 
plunge  into  the  sea,  he  now  held  himself  under 
rigid  control.  His  soul  was  tempest-tossed,  in 
deed,  but  he  gave  no  outward  or  visible  sign  of 
his  horror  and  dismay. 

I  wonder  what  he  thought. 

If  you  were  a  man  looking  from  the  dead  face 
of  the  mother  of  your  child,  with  that  child 
clasped  in  death  as  in  life  against  the  tender 
breast  that  had  nourished  it,  as  you  looked  into 
the  hard-set,  unforgiving,  yet  beautiful  face  of 
the  woman  you  passionately  loved  in  spite  of  all 
you  had  done,  the  woman  who  was  your  true  and 
lawful  wife,  what  would  you  think  in  such  a  case  ? 
Wronging  both  women,  but  somehow  more 
sinned  against  than  sinning,  and  yet  unable  to 
offer  any  defence,  what  would  your  emotions  be? 

What  memories,  sweet  and  holy,  would  rise  in 
your  soul,  of  the  farther  past  when  first  you  took 
into  your  arms  the  noble  woman  now  staring  at 
you  with  such  bitter  resentment  across  that  nar 
row  opening  which  would  seem  forever  to  divide 

[215] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

you  from  her  ?  What  recollections,  sad  yet  tender, 
would  haunt  your  mind,  of  the  nearer  past  when 
you  took  into  your  arms  the  woman  who  did  not 
stare  at  you  at  all,  yet  whose  eyes,  now  closed  and 
sealed,  had  looked  to  you  with  love  and  laughter? 
Across  all  these  remembrances  what  sound  of 
baby's  voice,  not  to  be  heard  any  more,  would 
come  to  you  at  last? 

What  memories  of  the  past  did  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland  mingle  with  anticipations  of 
the  future?  Had  he  committed  the  unpardon 
able  sin?  Could  he  ever  be  forgiven?  How  he 
had  longed  for  the  coming  of  the  world  to  that 
desolate  island !  Now  that  it  was  here,  what  had 
it  to  offer  him?  What  had  he  to  offer  it ? 

Yonder  stood  his  wife  beautiful;  strength, 
nobility,  and  courage  in  every  line  of  her  figure, 
in  every  lineament  of  her  face.  Yonder,  his  lips 
slowly  voicing  the  ancient  words  of  prayer,  was 
his  old  friend  and  faithful  servant  the  boatswain, 
his  gray  head  bowed,  his  voice  choked  a  little, 
sometimes  stumbling  over  an  unfamiliar  phrase. 
Yonder  were  grouped  the  men  of  his  race,  some 
of  whom  he  knew,  looking  on,  commenting  upon 
the  situation  in  their  hearts;  as  they  were  hu- 
[216] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

man,  ready  enough  to  put  two  and  two  together, 
to  deduce  the  inevitable,  holding  what  opinion  of 
him  we  all  can  well  imagine. 

He  stood  there  without  justification  before 
God,  before  man,  and  before  the  women,  dead 
or  living.  His  troubles  had  come  to  him,  he 
scarcely  knew  how,  through  the  dead  woman, 
yet  he  could  not  feel  hard  toward  poor  little 
Felicity.  Ah,  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland,  thou 
hast  much  for  which  to  answer;  but  at  least  that 
sin  of  reproaching  the  helpless  and  innocent  dead 
is  not  to  be  laid  to  thy  charge.  Hadst  thou  done 
that,  I  had  left  thee  to  thy  fate  alone  upon  that 
desert  island,  now  from  a  paradise  become  a  hell ! 

Little  Felicity  had  greatly  loved,  and  she  had 
little  known;  that  was  her  excuse.  Her  under 
standing  was  not  in  proportion  to  her  passion; 
that  was  her  misfortune.  He  had  not  loved  her 
before;  that  made  his  shame  and  reproach  the 
more  keen  —  but  if  such  things  were  possible,  he 
almost  loved  her  now.  Could  he  love  both  the 
dead  and  the  living?  At  any  rate  he  felt  very 
kindly  indeed  toward  the  forlorn  and  departed 
Spirit  of  the  Island  and  toward  the  baby  whom 
he  was  not  to  see  any  more. 

[217] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

The  position  in  which  he  was  plunged  was  ab 
solutely  insupportable.  Better  had  it  been,  he 
thought  bitterly,  if  he  had  lived  out  his  life  on 
that  island  with  her  and  the  child.  Better,  after 
all,  if  no  one  had  ever  found  them  and  that  they 
had  died  there,  unnoticing  the  world,  by  the  world 
unnoticed.  Aye,  far  better  even  if  he  had  died 
on  the  burning  ship,  for  then  Felicity  would  be 
alive  to-day  and  in  Julia's  sheltering  arms. 

Yet  the  experience  he  had  gone  through  with 
her  was  worth  something!  Was  it  not  so,  Cap 
tain  Stephen  Cleveland? 

Instead  of  hating  Felicity's  memory  if  he  had 
died,  Julia  would  have  been  her  friend.  Instead 
of  hating  him  too,  as  she  did  now,  Julia  would 
have  loved  his  memory.  He  stole  a  glance  at  his 
wife,  and  the  volcanic  rock  on  which  they  stood 
was  not  sterner  and  more  composed  than  her  face. 
It  was  pale,  too,  like  the  white  water  at  the  foot 
of  the  cliff,  where  little  Felicity  and  her  baby  had 
gone  out  to  sea.  Her  lips  were  compressed,  her 
glance  bent  toward  the  wooden  box  in  which  the 
two  were  now  being  nailed  up. 

O  little  Felicity,  never  before  in  thy  life  wert 
thou  under  such  constraint.  How  wouldst  thou 

[218] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

have  protested  against  those  narrow  limits,  into 
which  the  most  free  of  us  must  some  day  cornel 

Save  for  her  breathing,  Julia  Cleveland 
scarcely  seemed  more  alive  than  the  other.  Stop, 
there  was  a  woman  beneath  that  exterior  of  stone. 
As  she  gazed,  a  slow  tear  ran  unnoticed  down  her 
cold  cheek  —  single  evidence,  only  testimony,  of 
tenderness;  outward  and  visible  sign  of  some 
love  and  pity  in  her  broken  heart.  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland  groaned  in  spirit  as  he  looked 
from  the  one  to  the  other,  but  with  his  lips  he 
made  no  sound. 

What,  dear  reader,  if  you  are  a  woman,  do  you 
think  were  the  emotions  of  Julia  Cleveland  then 
and  there?  Never  in  all  the  long  hours  had 
doubt  of  him  crossed  her  mind.  Absolutely  sin 
cere  in  her  own  devotion,  it  had  been  impossible 
for  her  to  conceive  any  less  of  him.  She  had 
made  many  pictures  of  the  possible  meeting  for 
which  she  hoped,  of  which  she  dreamed,  for 
which  she  had  labored,  —  never  one  like  this.  She 
would  have  staked  her  soul  upon  his  fidelity,  she 
would  have  pledged  her  life  for  his  trust  and 
loyalty.  She  had  often  imagined  that  she  might 
find  him,  but  never  that  she  would  find  him  in 
[219] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

the  arms  of  another  woman ;  that  the  child  of  that 
other  woman  would  call  him  father.  She,  too, 
had  borne  a  child  to  him;  it,  too,  was  dead,  and 
he  did  not  know.  She  thought  of  the  struggles 
she  had  made  alone  for  him.  Oh,  yes,  she  would 
not  have  been  a  human  woman  if  she  had  not 
thought  of  Ellison  and  that  day  on  the  mountain 
side  when  she  turned  her  back  upon  him  and  went 
down  to  seek  her  husband. 

Her  heart  filled  with  bitter  resentment  toward 
Captain  Stephen  Cleveland;  her  own  devotion 
had  been  so  absolute  that  she  made  no  excuse  for 
him.  She  was  a  New  England  woman,  too,  with 
an  instinctive  reprobation  for  broken  laws  and 
sinful  acts.  She  had  the  conscience  of  her  coun 
try  and  the  hardness  of  her  Puritan  ancestry. 
She  was  bitter  against  him,  and  the  wickedness 
against  God  and  herself  of  which  he  had  been  so 
undeniably  guilty. 

Yet  it  is  a  singular  indication  of  her  state  of 
mind  —  the  humanity  that  veiled  the  tables  of 
stone  in  her  being  —  that  she  was  not  yet  bitter 
against  the  poor  woman;  she  might  later  become 
so,  doubtless;  that  would  be  natural  and  in 
evitable,  provided  of  course  that  all  love  for  her 

[220] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

husband  had  not  been  crushed  out  of  her  heart  in 
that  awful  revelation.  At  present  she  even 
thought  tenderly  of  little  Felicity.  There  was 
something  so  appealingly  pathetic,  so  terribly 
tragic,  so  ineffably  sad,  about  her  position.  The 
sight  of  the  baby  on  her  breast  moved  the  other 
woman,  stirred  the  very  depths  of  her  being.  She 
thought  of  her  own  motherhood,  of  her  own  little 
son  out  there  in  the  unknown  into  which  Felicity 
and  her  baby  had  so  madly  plunged. 

She  did  not  know  the  particulars  of  the  story, 
yet  it  was  not  difficult  to  divine  them.  She  was 
burning  with  jealous  anxiety  to  know  everything, 
and  she  was  resolved  that  she  would  know  every 
thing,  that  nothing  should  be  withheld  from  her. 
She  would  exact  the  most  infinitesimal  details 
from  her  husband's  doubtless  unwilling  lips,  al 
though  every  revelation  would  add  to  her  tor 
ture  and  her  bitterness. 

But  for  the  moment  she  was  sorry  for  Felicity. 
Curiously  enough,  the  fact  that  she  too  had  been 
a  mother,  and  the  mother  of  this  man's  child,  and 
that  that  child  too  was  dead,  inclined  her  heart  to 
tenderness.  Blest  be  the  tie  that  binds!  Thank 
God  for  that  touch  of  nature  that  made  these  two 
[221  ] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

women  kin  —  the  strong  and  the  weak,  the  erring 
and  the  inerrant.  A  little  child  indeed  had  led 
them.  Blessed  was  the  tear  of  the  good  woman 
over  the  grave  of  her  who  was,  in  law  at  least,  an 
adulteress,  a  murderess,  and  a  suicide. 

How  horrible  is  the  sound  of  those  awful  words ! 
God  forgive  me,  little  Felicity,  that  I  should  thus 
harshly  characterize  thine  innocent  acts.  Thou 
wert  greatly  more  sinned  against  than  sinning, 
in  this,  thy  short  life;  and  I  have  not  much  fear 
but  that  Love  with  His  sweet  allowances  made 
thee  welcome  on  the  distant  farther  side  —  and 
surely  thy  little  baby  too. 

It  was  soon  over,  the  brief  service  came  to  its 
appointed  end,  the  small  grave  was  rapidly  filled, 
the  huge  mound  of  rocks  —  smaller  and  fewer 
were  enough  to  weight  down  little  Felicity, 
surely  —  was  speedily  completed.  They  sur 
mounted  it  with  a  rude  cross  of  the  sailors' 
making.  As  of  old,  love  lay  beneath  the  sign  of 
torment,  affection  was  the  basis  on  which  was 
upreared  the  symbol  of  Self  Sacrifice  Divine. 

They  went  down  from  the  hill  separately. 
Julia  Cleveland  and  the  old  boatswain  in  the  lead, 
Captain  Crowninshield  and  the  sailors  next,  and 

f 

[ 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  alone.  After  they 
all  went  away  and  left  him,  he  knelt  down  there 
on  that  heaven-kissing  hill  and  buried  his  face  in 
his  hands.  Neither  lips  nor  heart  could  formu 
late  a  prayer,  but  there  was  something  in  his  at 
titude  that  was  more  eloquent  than  words.  I 
take  it  that  God  understood ;  and  maybe  Felicity 
too  might  have  been  a  little  comforted. 

Then  he  rose  and  followed  the  others.  He  held 
his  head  high,  determined  to  look  the  woman  in 
the  face,  as  became  a  man.  Although  every 
error,  every  mistake,  every  wrong,  tortured  his 
broken  soul,  still  he  would  support  with  courage 
the  marred  and  blurred  image  of  his  Maker 
which  he  had  made  of  himself. 

Man,  proud  man !  And  what  is  he,  Lord,  that 
Thou  art  mindful  of  him? 

They  entered  the  boat  on  the  shore.  There 
was  nothing  to  take  away,  no  cause  for  delay,  so 
they  were  rowed  out  to  the  ship,  and  without 
further  ceremony  got  aboard  her.  The  boat  was 
hoisted,  the  mainyard  was  swung,  on  the  broad 
yardarms  the  white  canvas  was  sheeted  home. 
The  great  ship  heeled  to  the  gentle  breeze,  hands 
stood  by  the  helm,  words  of  command  came 

[ 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

sharply  from  the  quarterdeck;  slowly  she  swung 
to  the  wind  and  began  to  beat  away  from  the 
island,  back  to  the  world  again. 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  walked  the  quar 
terdeck,  falling  easily  into  lifelong  habits,  as  if 
he  had  never  been  off  the  ship.  It  was  evening, 
the  sunset  and  the  darkness  came.  The  Island 
of  Enchantment  faded  away  like  a  dream;  the 
last  glimpse  he  caught  of  it  was  a  rude  cross 
outlined  against  the  sky  upon  the  highest 
hill. 

In  the  years  to  come  the  sun  would  shine  upon 
that  cross  by  day.  The  winds  would  blow  now 
softly,  now  roughly  over  it.  Sometimes  the  rain 
would  beat  upon  it.  By  night  the  moon  would 
silver  it,  or  the  silent  stars  look  down  upon  it, 
or  the  thick  clouds  veil  it;  while  beneath  it,  all 
that  was  left  of  little  Felicity  and  the  baby 
mouldered  away  into  oblivion. 

"Dust  ihou  art,,  and  unto  dust  shall  thou 
return! " 

Perhaps,  some  day,  wandering  mariners  might 
land  upon  that  shore.  They  might  stand  bare 
headed  in  reverence  before  that  crumbling  cross, 
emblem  world-wide  of  all  religion;  they  might 
[224] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

make  out  the  rude  carving  of  the  one  word  it 
bore,  "  Felicity  "  -  happiness  —  and  wonder  who 
lay  buried  there,  what  joy  in  life  had  caused  that 
word  to  be  graved  above  her.  But  she  would 
never  know.  Only  in  the  minds  of  two  persons 
would  her  memory  be  preserved,  and  in  neither 
of  these  minds  would  she,  who  had  been  light 
and  love  and  laughter,  be  remembered  with  the 
feelings  with  which  one  so  sweet,  so  joyous,  so 
pure,  so  innocent,  should  have  been  associated. 
For  one  of  the  two  by  and  by  might  hate  her, 
and  the  other  would  rage  against  the  recollec 
tion  of  hours  spent  in  her  arms. 

And  yet,  after  all,  time  would  do  something 
for  her,  perhaps,  in  the  later  years.  When  Julia 
Cleveland  forgave '  her  husband  and  took  him 
back  —  for  you  know,  dear  reader,  that  is  what 
she  will  do,  what  she  must  do  —  there  would  be 
a  mellowing  of  feeling,  and  possibly  some  day  a 
little  Felicity  might  come  again  upon  the  earth. 
Who  knows?  Certainly  Stephen  Cleveland  did 
not,  he  could  see  no  way  out  of  the  situation,  as 
he  stood  there  on  the  quarterdeck  staring  at  the 
fading  blur  upon  the  far  horizon  that  had  been 
his  home  for  so  many  years. 
[225] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

There  was  a  certain  relief  in  his  soul.  The 
Gordian  knot  had  been  cut.  Felicity  had  cut  it 
in  her  own  way,  by  her  own  act.  And  this  had 
greatly  simplified  his  hard  task.  He  intended  to 
keep  back  nothing  from  his  wife,  without  being 
false  to  Felicity's  cause.  He  counted  on  the  love 
she  bore  him,  and  he  hoped  to  win  her  respect 
again,  without  which  he  could  not  enjoy  her 
affection. 

Hie  labor,  hie  opus  est!  He  was  willing  to 
serve  for  her  forgiveness  as  many  years  as  he 
had  been  upon  the  island,  or  longer  if  need  be. 
He  drew  long  breaths  of  hope,  as  he  thought  of 
the  possibility  of  forgiveness  and  reconciliation. 
Alas!  poor  man,  he  little  knew  what  was  in  store 
for  him,  what  he  had  to  face. 

Sometimes  the  evil  that  men  do  is  not 
recompensed  in  this  world.  The  wicked  do 
still  on  occasion  flourish  like  the  green  bay- 
tree.  And  sometimes  they  die  in  their  wick 
edness  unrepentant,  triumphant.  But  the  lex 
talionis  is  the  oldest  and  most  immutable 
of  laws,  after  all.  Happy  the  man  who  pays 
here  rather  than  there.  Was  all  this  sorrow  to 
go  for  naught?  Was  all  this  unhappiness  to 
[226] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

receive  no  attention?     Was  the  great  Avenger 
careless  ever? 

As  there  was  a  God  above  him,  Captain  Stephen 
Cleveland  was  to  be  made  to  suffer  something  of 
what  others  had  suffered  on  his  account.  Res 
titution  must  be  made.  Without  the  shedding 
of  blood  there  was  to  be  no  remission  of  sins. 
Even-handed  justice  would  exact  the  uttermost 
from  this  master  mariner.  The  Avenger  of 
Blood,  as  of  old,  was  on  the  track  of  the  man 
for  whose  sake  little  Felicity  had  cast  away  her 
own  life  and  her  baby's  life  as  well. 

Aye,  indeed,  happier  hadst  thou  been,  Cap 
tain  Stephen  Cleveland,  hadst  thou  never  been 
aroused  from  that  unconsciousness  upon  the 
sands.  Death  were  a  mercy  to  what  was  to  be 
sent  upon  thee.  And  as  it  ever  hath  been,  is, 
and  shall  be,  thou  wert  thine  own  undoing! 

Oh,  little  Felicity,  how  wouldst  thy  gentle  heart 
have  been  wrung  couldst  thou  have  known  what 
was  preparing  for  thy  beloved  in  that  night,  on 
that  ship  which  bore  his  name,  and  which  car 
ried  him  away  from  thee.  In  that  lonely  grave 
thou  sleepest  well,  and  perhaps  after  all  thou 
art  the  happiest  of  the  three.  Who  knows? 

[227] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

Old  Foresman  broke  Captain  Stephen  Cleve 
land's  reverie.  He  touched  him  on  the  shoulder; 
there  was  sympathy  in  the  old  man's  regard; 
he  too  had  made  deductions.  He  knew,  or 
thought  he  did,  the  temptations  and  the  follies 
of  youth,  and  the  loneliness  of  the  island,  and 
his  kindly  feeling  spoke  in  his  voice. 

"  Sir,"  he  began,  —  he  was  a  very  rich  man 
now  from  his  share  of  the  mine,  but  the  old  habit 
of  subordination  was  strong  upon  him.  He 
could  have  bought  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland 
over  and  over  again  a  million  times,  for  the 
latter  had  nothing;  yet  he  was  still  the  humble 
subordinate,  still  the  veteran  sailor. 

"Sir,"  he  said,  " your  wife  wants  you  below 
in  the  cabin." 


[228] 


CHAPTER  XVII 

WHEBEIN     CAPTAIN     STEPHEN     CLEVELAND     CON 
FESSES  ALL  AND  SEEKS  FORGIVENESS 

rri  O  pass  from  the  darkness  of  the  night  into 
•*•  the  brilliantly  lighted,  luxuriously  ap 
pointed  cabin  under  the  poop-deck,  which  Julia 
Cleveland  had  reserved  for  herself  and  in  the 
outfitting  of  which  she  had  spared  no  expense, 
was  not  more  abrupt  transition  than  from  the 
thoughts  of  Felicity  which  had  run  through  Cap 
tain  Stephen  Cleveland's  brain,  to  those  evoked 
by  the  living  presence  of  his  wife,  seated  calmly 
at  the  head  of  the  table  in  the  centre  of  the  cabin. 
Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  had  never  posed  as 
a  connoisseur  of  things  feminine ;  perhaps  uncon 
sciously  he  had  learned  something  from  his  long 
association  with  the  woman  of  the  past  —  dead 
but  a  few  hours,  and  now  only  of  the  past !  But 
his  first  impression  was  one  of  keen  pleasure 
in  the  beauty  and  splendor  of  the  presence  fem 
inine  which  filled  the  little  cabin  with  another 

[229] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

light  than  that  which  came  from  the  lamps 
swinging  overhead. 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  had  been  a  com 
manding  officer,  and  he  loved  the  commanding 
presence.  He  appreciated  the  self-possession,  the 
ease,  the  dignity,  which  emanated  from  his  wife, 
and  he  was  proud  of  their  relationship,  albeit 
what  that  relationship  would  actually  turn  out 
to  be  in  the  future,  he  could  not  yet  foresee.  So 
far  as  his  powers  of  determination  went,  he  was 
resolved  that  it  should  be  everything  that  it  had 
been  on  the  Swiftsure,  before  fate  so  rudely  inter 
rupted  the  course  of  their  love's  young  dream. 

Unfortunately  it  is  not  always  enough  to  re 
solve  in  order  to  achieve.  It  is  a  long  lane  with 
many  turns  that  lies  between  purpose  and  the  end. 
Well,  life,  which  had  been  so  closed  to  him 
before,  was  now  widely  opened.  If  it  took  time, 
he  would  take  time;  if  it  took  effort  and  labor, 
he  would  bestow  them  cheerfully  and  ungrudg 
ingly. 

Protestations,     prayers,    vows,    explanations 

rushed  to  his  lips,  but  he  stood  silent,  easily 

balancing  himself  to  the  slow  roll  of  the  ship. 

Oh,  how  good  did  that  roll  feel  to  him  after  the 

[230] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

solid  isolation  on  the  island  1  It  was  like 
quickening  the  dead  to  him,  as  he  waited  for 
her  to  speak. 

"  Stephen  Cleveland,"  began  the  woman, 
breaking  the  silence  with  the  familiar  words 
that  had  been  so  often  on  her  lips  and  always 
in  her  heart. 

Ah,  with  what  different  emotions,  and  under 
what  different  circumstances,  did  she  call  that 
name  now  I  And  it  was  the  first  time  that  she 
had  spoken  to  him  since  she  addressed  that  ter 
rified  and  terrifying  question  to  him  ere  he  fell 
prostrate  on  the  sand.  Foresman  and  Captain 
Crowinshield,  together  with  her,  had  planned 
all  the  details  of  the  burial,  of  which  he  had 
been  a  passive  spectator,  dully  acquiescent  in 
everything  they  proposed. 

"Julia,"  he  began  in  his  turn,  as  she  stopped 
short,  apparently  unable  to  proceed. 

The  woman  shook  her  head,  frowning. 

"What  right  have  you  to  speak  to  me,  to 
call  me  by  my  name,  now?"  she  asked  bitterly, 
and  then  added  abruptly,  "  After  what  has 
passed,  I  should  think  —  " 

He  interrupted  her  quickly. 
[831] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"  Unless  you  give  it  me,  I  have  no  right," 
he  admitted  at  once. 

He  spoke  quietly,  firmly,  with  dignity  that 
matched  her  own,  yet  with  a  certain  humility 
as  unusual  to  him  as  it  was  most  becoming. 
The  woman  could  not  fail  to  recognize  that  and 
approve.  There  was  nothing  unmanly  or  abas 
ing  about  his  attitude  in  this  most  difficult  inter 
view.  He  could  be  sorry,  ashamed,  repentant, 
as  he  was  and  as  he  meant  her  to  know,  without 
degrading  himself  before  her.  And  come  what 
might,  he  did  not  intend  to  degrade  little  Felicity 
either.  Was  ever  man  in  a  more  impossible 
situation? 

'  Yes,  you  have  no  right  in  me,  or  with  me 
at  all.  What  I  shall  give  you,"  said  the  woman, 
passionately,  "I  do  not  know,  I  cannot  tell;  in 
my  present  state  of  mind,  nothing." 

"  It  may  be  true,  as  you  say,  I  deserve  noth 
ing  at  your  hands;  it  is  certain  that  I  deserve 
little;  and  yet,  perhaps,  I  am  not  altogether  so 
guilty  and  so  disloyal  as  you  think  me." 

"As  I  think  you!"  she  cried  with  cutting 
emphasis  upon  the  verb. 

"As  I  seem  to  be,  then." 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"As  you  seem  to  be!" 

"  As  I  am,  then,"  he  admitted  patiently,  con 
scious  of  her  wrongs.  ''Perhaps  when  I  tell 
you  what  happened  and  how  it  happened,  you 
may  understand  a  little  better." 

"  I  do  not  wish  any  enlightenment,  I  can  see 
it  all  —  " 

"  No,  forgive  me,  that  is  just  what  you  can 
not  see,  and  that  is  what  I  intend  to  show  you." 

"  Do  you  intend  to  shelter  yourself  behind  the 
woman?"  she  asked,  scornfully. 

"God  forbid!"  came  the  prompt  answer,  and 
she  did  not  know  whether  it  pleased  or  angered 
her  the  more. 

'  The  blame  was  either  hers,  or  yours,  or  you 
were  both  equally  guilty." 

She  thus  pursued  the  subject  with  a  merciless 
and  cruel  logic  which  was  torture  to  herself  as 
well  as  to  him.  Her  proposition  was  one  which 
Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  found  difficulty  in 
answering.  He  stared  at  his  wife  in  dismay.  She 
was  making  it  very  hard  for  him,  he  thought, 
with  masculine  resentment,  forgetting  that  the 
difficulty  was  inherent  in  the  situation  and  was 
largely  his  own  deserving.  He  was  a  fair  man 

[233] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

and  a  just.  He  was  the  one  to  be  blamed,  and 
he  manfully  assumed  the  responsibility. 

"  The  blame  was  mine,"  he  admitted  at  last. 

"Do  you  say  that  because  she  is  —  " 

"  I  say  it  because  it  is  true." 

'  You  may  as  well  tell  me  how  it  all  hap 
pened,"  said  the  woman,  exulting  in  his 
confusion. 

"  I  am  anxious  to  do  so." 

"And  you  will  suppress  no  details?" 

"  Not  one.  You  shall  have  as  frank  a  confes 
sion  as  I  can  make." 

"Begin  at  the  beginning,  then,  when  you  fell 
back  into  the  flaming  ship.  Oh,"  —  she  put  her 
hand  to  her  head  and  closed  her  eyes  as  if  to 
shut  out  recollection  —  "if  you  could  know  how 
I  felt  at  that  moment!" 

"  I  do  know,  for  before  I  fell  I  saw  you 
whirled  away  —  " 

"  Never  mind  me.  Your  life  was  spared,  — 
how?" 

"I  fell  into  the  afterhold  and  when  the  rain 

came  it  found  me  still  alive  though  frightfully 

burned  and  bruised.     I  do  not  know  how  many 

days  I  lived  on  what  was  left  of  the  ship  with- 

[234] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

out  food  or  water  in  bodily  torture  inexpressible. 
Julia,  believe  me,  I  swear  to  God  it  was  nothing 
to  the  mental  agony  I  suffered  because  I 
thought  you  dead." 

"And  was  it  because  you  thought  me  dead 
that  you  took  this  woman?"  she  asked  with  con 
temptuous  sarcasm. 

"No." 

"And  if  I  had  been  dead,  had  I  been  so 
little  to  you  that  you  could  so  easily  forget  me? " 

"No,  in  God's  name,  no." 

"How,  then?" 

"  I  will  teU  you  if  you  will  be  still." 

"  Go  on." 

'  The  Swift  sure  lodged  at  last  on  that  island." 

"And  there  you  found  the  woman?" 

"No,"  replied  the  man  desperately,  "but  in 
deed  I  cannot  tell  you  if  you  interrupt  me  in 
this  way.  It  is  hard  enough,  and  you  make  it 
harder." 

"  I  will  be  silent." 

'  The  woman  found  me  in  the  island  several 
days  after  I  landed.  She  had  been  cast  away 
there  as  a  child  from  a  French  frigate  of  which 
her  father  was  the  commander,  and  which  was 

[235] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

lost  at  sea;  how,  I  am  not  quite  sure;  probably 
she  was  dismasted,  sprung  a  leak,  foundered  —  " 

"I  am  not  interested  in  that  matter,"  inter 
posed  the  woman. 

"  No,  certainly  not,"  assented  Captain  Stephen 
Cleveland.  "  I  judge  that  she  was  about  ten 
years  old  when  she  landed  on  that  island,  and 
she  was  alone,  all  the  survivors  of  the  frigate's 
crew  in  the  boat  which  brought  her  to  the  island 
having  died  on  the  way.  She  had  lived  there 
alone  for  nine  or  ten  years.  She  was  as  shy  and 
timid  as  a  wild  bird.  She  did  not  make  herself 
known  to  me  until  several  days  after  I  had  come 
ashore.  I  used  to  find  fruit  piled  up  near  where 
I  slept  and  one  night  suddenly  awakening  I 
caught  her  by  the  ankle.  She  broke  away. 
When  day  came  I  sought  her  until  I  found  her 
on  that  high  cliff  where  —  " 

He  paused.  The  recollection  of  that  last 
scene  of  all  in  little  Felicity's  strange,  eventful 
history  almost  overcame  him,  and  yet  he  could 
not,  would  not,  show  any  emotion. 

'  Whence  she  leaped  to  death? "  asked  the 
woman,  scrutinizing  him  keenly. 

"Yes." 

[236] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"  And  then  what  happened?  " 

"  She  had  a  woman's  being,  a  woman's  capa 
bility  of  development,  but  a  child's  knowledge 
and  a  child's  training.  I  taught  her  to  speak 
English  and  whatever  else  I  could  recall  of  the 
world's  knowledge  or  learning." 

"Is  that  all  you  taught  her?" 

"As  God  is  my  judge  that  was  my  sole 
purpose  with  her." 

*  Your  purpose  and  your  performance  did  not 
run  together,  evidently." 

Julia  Cleveland  laughed,  but  her  laughter 
was  neither  pleasant  nor  mirth-provoking. 

"  And  you  lived  —  how?  "  she  asked  presently. 

"  She  lived  in  a  little  grotto  on  the  top  of 
that  high  hill;  and  I,  in  that  palm-thatched  hut 
you  saw  near  the  strand." 

"  But  I  don't  understand,"  began  the  woman 
in  bewilderment.  "Are  you  telling  me  the 
truth?" 

"Did  I  ever  in  all  my  life  tell  you  a  lie?" 

"I  do  not  believe  so." 

"I  am  only  at  the  beginning  of  the  story. 
Hard  as  it  may  be,  you  shall  have  it  all." 

"And  I  want  it  all.    Proceed." 
[237] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"  One  day,  two  years  or  more  after  I  came  to 
the  island  —  we  had  no  calendar,  you  know,  and 
I  soon  lost  count  of  time  —  coming  down  the 
cliff  she  fell  and  broke  her  leg.  I  found  her 
and  carried  her  to  the  hut  on  the  strand.  She 
was  helpless.  I  had  to  wait  on  her.  She  was 
frightened,  sick ;  I  could  not  leave  her.  We  were 
alone,  no  ship  had  ever  passed.  I  —  we  —  " 

He  stopped  abruptly.  Somehow  he  could  not 
put  it  into  words,  try  as  he  might.  It  was  not 
fair  to  Felicity,  hardly  decent.  His  face  flushed, 
he  became  suddenly  very  still.  The  temptation 
to  justify  himself  was  overpowering,  yet  he 
thanked  God  that  he  did  not  yield  to  it. 

"It  was  my  fault,"  he  said  very  low,  not 
hanging  his  head  as  another  might  have  done, 
but  looking  directly  at  her  with  certain  pride. 
"  She  knew  nothing  of  life,  its  laws,  its  respon 
sibilities,  its  conventions.  The  blame  was  mine." 

And  in  this  perhaps  Captain  Stephen  Cleve 
land  went  beyond  the  truth,  in  his  desire  to  be 
honest,  to  be  just,  to  be  absolutely  fair  to  poor 
little  Felicity. 

"  I  understand,"  said  Julia  Cleveland,  return 
ing  his  concentrated  gaze  as  if  fascinated. 

[238] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

She  would  have  hated  him  had  he  sought 
shelter  behind  the  woman,  yet  it  cut  her  to  the 
heart  to  see  him  assume  all  the  responsibility, 
to  recognize  his  intention  to  shelter  the  other,  to 
whom,  being  herself  a  woman,  she  was  fain 
to  ascribe  all  the  wrong.  There  was  a  long 
pause  which  neither  was  able  to  break. 

"  Did  you,  did  she  — "  she  at  last  hesitatingly 
began,  forcing  herself  with  considerable  success 
to  speak  indifferently  in  spite  of  the  flushes  of 
shame  and  humiliation  that  swept  over  her,  "  did 
she  —  care  very  much  for  you?  " 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  bowed  his  head. 

"  I  was  the  only  man  upon  the  island,"  he 
answered.  "  She  could  remember  no  other.  I 
was  the  only  human  being  she  had  seen  since 
her  girlhood.  I  had  been  good  to  her.  I  sup 
pose  she  did  —  care  —  a  great  deal." 

He  could  be  frank  about  himself,  but  he 
would  fain  preserve  some  reticence  about  Felic 
ity  —  a  worthy  mariner  and  gentleman,  after  all. 

"  She  must  have  cared  a  great  deal,"  burst 
out  Julia  in  impetuous  bitterness.  "  Her  seek 
ing  death  when  I  came,  and  the  manner  of  it, 
showed  that." 

[239] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"  I  think  she  saw  our  meeting  upon  the  strand; 
I  think  she  heard  what  I  said.  She  probably 
followed  me  down  from  the  cliff,  after  we  saw 
the  sails  of  your  ship." 

"And  did  you  —  did  you  —  care  —  very 
much?"  Julia  forced  herself  to  ask  as  coldly 
and  as  impersonally  as  she  could,  and  yet  hang 
ing  upon  his  answer  with  all  her  soul  —  and 
raging  against  herself  for  asking  the  question. 

"  Well  —  "  admitted  the  poor  man  bravely  and 
honestly,  and  she  could  hardly  fail  to  see  and 
appreciate  his  courage  and  his  truth;  the  temp 
tation  to  lie  was  so  great,  and  he  could  have 
done  it  successfully,  so  easily,  "  —  at  first  I  did 
not,  but  naturally  after  a  while  and  in  a  way  I 
did.  She  was  so  sweet,  so  innocent,  so  — " 

"  Spare  me  that,"  protested  the  woman  quickly 
with  uplifted  hands. 

"  I  am  only  trying  to  show  you  the  exact  state 
of  affairs.  Of  course  I  —  cared  —  in  a  measure 
—  in  a  way.  The  poor  child  gave  up  so  much. 
But,  you  will  never  believe  it,  I  can  never  per 
suade  you  of  the  truth,  it  is  perhaps  a  hopeless 
endeavor,  but  as  I  live  and  move  and  have  a  be 
ing,  before  Almighty  God,  no  other  woman  has 
[240] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

displaced  or  ever  can  displace  you  from  my 
heart,  Julia." 

"Not  even  your  Felicity?" 

"Not  even  a  thousand  Felicitys." 

'Yet  she  was  the  mother  of  your  child." 

"For  God's  sake,  don't  go  into  that,  that's 
past  and — " 

"  Past,"  cried  the  woman.  "  Do  you  think  it 
can  ever  pass?" 

"  No,  I  suppose  not,  but  as  I  live,  it  seems  to 
me  that  all  my  thoughts  in  —  in  living  with  her 
—  were  for  her  happiness,  not  for  my  own." 

"  Shocking,"  mocked  the  woman. 

'  Yes,  it  is.  I  cannot  make  it  plain,  I  do  not 
expect  you  to  understand;  but  she  loved  me,  she 
was  all  alone,  she  merited  so  much  love  and 
received  so  little.  When  she  loved  me  most  the 
memory  of  you  intervened.  Often  I  would  tear 
myself  away  from  her  and  go  alone  on  the  other 
side  of  the  island  to  spend  the  day  in  agonized 
thought  of  you.  Naturally  I  was  convinced 
that  you  were  dead.  My  experience  said  to  me 
that  it  would  be  a  practical  impossibility  for  that 
whaleboat  to  survive  the  storm.  No  sound  had 
come  from  out  the  deep.  No  sail  had  whitened 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

the  horizon  for  all  that  long  time.  I  was  abso 
lutely  destitute  of  everything.  I  was  shut  off 
there  on  that  island,  off  from  the  world  with  a 
woman,  with  a  woman  who  loved  me,  to  whom 
I  was  everything.  I  did  her  a  great  wrong." 

"And  me  a  great  wrong." 

*  Yes,  you  too,  and  a  wrong  to  my  manhood ; 
but  I  am  prepared  to  atone." 

'You  can  never  atone." 

"I  am  ready  to  be  punished." 

"Punishment  you  shall  have." 

"  I  shall  submit  to  it,  whatever  it  may  be." 

"  I  can  never  forgive  you." 

"  I  will  work  and  wait  all  my  life  in  the  hope 
that  you  may." 

"Is  that  all?" 

"  That 's  all,  and  it  is  more  than  enough.  It 
only  remains  to  add  that,  strange  as  it  may  seem 
to  you,  you  and  you  alone  have  my  heart,  and 
you  have  ever  had  it.  Even  with  that  little 
child's  arms  around  my  neck,  I  thought  of  you. 
You  can  believe  it  or  disbelieve  it,  you  can  not 
alter  the  fact." 

"  It  can  not  be  true." 

"  As  I  live,  as  God  hears  me,  it  is  true." 
[242] 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

WHEREIN   CAPTAIN   STEPHEN   CLEVELAND  AWAITS 
ANXIOUSLY  A  STORY  HE  FEARS  TO  HEAR 

THE  silence  that  followed  Captain  Stephen 
Cleveland's  solemn  affirmation  was  broken 
by  Julia  Cleveland's  laugh.  There  was  not  a 
woman  on  earth  who  was  less  emotional  and 
hysterical  than  she;  normally  she  was  self-con 
tained  and  restrained  beyond  her  sex,  but  the 
conversation  coming  at  the  close  of  such  a  day 
as  that  she  had  passed  through  was  too  much 
for  her;  her  femininity  got  the  upper  hand,  and 
as  she  laughed,  presently  she  also  cried. 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  would  fain  have 
drawn  nearer  to  her  in  order  to  comfort  her, 
but  marking  his  intention,  she  waved  him  aside 
and  by  a  superhuman  effort  recovered  some  of 
her  self-control,  and  gradually  became  silent 
and  more  composed.  When  she  did  so,  resting 
her  arms  upon  her  elbows,  she  buried  her  face 
in  her  hands  as  if  by  closing  her  eyes  she  could 

[243] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

shut  out  the  horrors  of  the  present  situation. 
Her  body  trembled  with  the  varied  emotions  of 
the  situation. 

The  hardest  constraint  that  was  ever  laid 
upon  him  was  laid  upon  Captain  Stephen  Cleve 
land  then.  He  would  have  given  all  the  re 
maining  years  of  his  life,  he  believed,  if  for  one 
moment  he  could  have  taken  her  in  his  arms  and 
comforted  her,  as  he  might  have  done  before 
he  had  forfeited  the  right  to  be  her  stay 
and  her  support.  He  hardly  dared  even  to 
break  in  upon  her  sorry  isolation  with  a  spoken 
word.  He  did  not  know  what  to  say  or  what 
to  do.  Of  course  she  did  not  believe  his  pro 
testation,  even  though  he  had  sworn  to  it.  He 
could  not  blame  her,  although  he  could  not  make 
it  any  stronger.  Life  and  the  future  would 
have  to  do  that. 

The  skeins  of  existence  for  him  and  for  her 
had  become  so  tangled  in  their  weaving  that  it 
would  require  patience  and  long  time  for  the 
unravelling.  Any  rude  present  onslaughts  by 
him  would  forever  and  irremediably  break  that 
web.  And  in  some  way  or  other  the  initiative 
had  been  taken  out  of  his  hands.  Or  had  he 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

thrown  it  away  ?  The  consciousness  that  he  must 
wait,  that  he  could  of  himself  do  nothing,  was 
not  the  least  part  of  the  punishment  he  must 
endure.  To  wait,  to  follow  another's  leading, 
to  be  subject  to  another's  direction,  was  in 
tensely  galling  and  difficult  for  a  man  of  his 
temperament  and  rearing. 

Again  it  was  the  woman  who  broke  the 
silence. 

"  That 's  all,"  she  said,  wearily  lifting  her 
head.  "  Captain  Crowninshield  will  make  you 
comfortable ;  there 's  a  spare  berth  off  his  cabin. 
If  you  need  anything,  ask  him.  I  can't  stand 
any  more  now.  Good-night." 

But  here  he  rebelled  a  little. 

"  No,"  said  he  gently  and  pleadingly,  "  it 's  not 
all." 

The  woman  flashed  into  resentment  at  once. 

"You  question  my  decision  on  my  own  ship? 
You  are  no  longer  master  of  it  or  of  me,"  she 
went  on  ruthlessly,  turning  the  blade  as  she 
lunged  for  his  heart  with  her  sharp  speech. 

And  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  felt  the 
thrust;  he  winced  but  continued  firm  in  his 
demand. 

[245] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"  I  want  to  know,"  he  said  quietly,  "  how 
and  where  you  got  this  ship  you  say  is  yours, 
and  —  " 

"Again  I  ask,  by  what  right  do  you  inter 
rogate  me?" 

"You  are  my  wife  still." 

"Your  wife!" 

And  it  is  hardly  possible  to  imagine  the  scorn, 
the  mockery,  the  contempt  with  which  she  fairly 
threw  those  two  words  at  him. 

"  Before  God  and  man,"  he  replied  firmly. 

"And  did  you  think  of  that  on  the  island?" 

"As  God  hears  me,  I  did;  and  I  am  entitled 
to  know  your  life  since  —  " 

"  Entitled? "  exclaimed  the  woman,  still  in 
arms  against  him. 

He  had  made  a  mistake  there,  —  he  recognized 
it.  Swiftly  he  sought  to  recover  himself. 

"  Perhaps  not  entitled,  —  it  may  be  that  was 
too  strong  a  word." 

"It  was." 

"I  grant  it,  therefore  I  entreat  you,"  he  ad 
mitted,  striving  to  placate  her.  '  Think  with 
what  anxiety  I  long  to  know  your  life.  I  have 
confessed  all  of  mine  and  — " 

[246] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"  I  can't  match  your  confession  with  one  like 
it." 

"Thank  God  for  that!" 

"But  why,  why?"  cried  the  woman.  "Is 
there  any  reason  why  I  might  not  have  done 
as  you  did?" 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  turned  ghastly 
pale  under  his  brown  at  the  shock  of  this  bold  yet 
terribly  menacing  and  suggestive  question.  He 
clenched  his  hands  and  leaned  across  the  table 
closer  to  her. 

"  But  you  did  not? "  he  cried.  "  For  God's 
sake,  say  that  you  did  not!" 

A  spasm  of  terror,  anguish,  jealousy,  and  wild 
ferocious  resentment  commingled,  such  as  he  had 
not  thought  the  human  frame  could  sustain,  the 
human  heart  experience,  shot  through  him.  And 
the  woman  exulted  in  the  outward  evidence  of 
his  emotion  at  the  bare  thought  that  had  come 
to  him  from  her  thoughtless  but  suggestive  ques 
tion.  It  was  higher  testimony  and  greater,  of 
what  he  really  thought  of  her,  of  the  power  she 
still  exercised,  of  the  sway  that  was  still  hers, 
than  she  had  been  able  to  draw  from  his  most 
fervent  protestations. 

[247] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

This  fierce,  unreasoning  jealousy,  this  soul- 
tearing  fear  that  he  displayed  moved  her 
strangely.  Instantly  she  was  tempted  to  play 
upon  it,  to  stimulate  it  further,  to  arouse  it  to 
greater  degree;  for  a  moment  admissions,  con 
fessions  that  were  false,  yet  that  it  would  almost 
kill  him  to  hear,  trembled  upon  her  lips;  to  in 
crease  his  madness  and  his  sufferings  she  almost 
uttered  them,  but  she  put  the  temptation  by  at 
last.  She  looked  at  him  unblenchingly  for  a 
moment  and  then  said  with  much  more  quiet 
ness  than  her  emotions  warranted, 

'  You  insult  me  by  such  a  question." 

"  But  you  don't  answer  it,"  he  thundered. 

"  And  I  shall  not.  You  have  no  right  to  meas 
ure  true  womanhood  by  your  own  low  standard." 

"I  — "  began  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland 
furiously. 

"  Stop!  "  said  the  woman.  "  I  am  willing  to 
tell  you  how  I  came  to  be  here,  but  not  at  the 
expense  of  my  self-respect.  It  has  been  out 
raged  enough  already:  I  have  borne  quite  as 
much  as  I  can  bear.  If  you  say  another  word 
on  this  line,  I  shall  have  you  expelled  from  my 
cabin." 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

The  punishment  was  beginning:  a  remark  like 
that  from  his  wife  would  have  been  hard  for 
any  husband  to  bear,  and  for  a  man  like  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland  it  was  almost  impossible. 
The  years  of  absolute  freedom  on  the  island 
had  only  made  the  slightest  restraint  the  more 
irksome.  He  could  scarcely  endure  to  be 
thwarted  even  in  little  things,  much  less  in  great 
matters. 

He  straightened  up,  clenched  his  hands,  up 
lifted  his  arms,  and  then  threw  them  down  by 
his  side  in  ruthless  gesture.  He  opened  his  lips 
to  speak,  but  immediately  closed  them  again, 
clenching  his  teeth  in  a  resolute  determination 
to  say  nothing  then. 

It  was  not  good  tactics  on  Julia  Cleveland's 
part  thus  to  play  with  her  husband;  had  she 
stopped  to  think  she  would  have  realized  that 
she  was  losing  that  advantage  in  the  struggle 
between  them  which  had  hitherto  lain  entirely 
with  her. 

She  was  baiting  her  husband  and  enjoying  his 
torture  in  a  wretched,  miserable  sort  of  a  way, 
and  the  more  she  gave  rein  to  her  passionate  in 
dignation  and  her  desire  to  hurt  him  at  whatever 

[249] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

cost,  the  more  he  controlled  himself  and  the  less 
secure  became  her  superior  position. 

"Will  you  listen  now,"  she  asked  at  last,  as 
his  stubborn  silence  forced  her  to  speak,  "  while 
I  tell  you  my  story? " 

He  nodded  abruptly. 

"Have  you  also  a  story  to  tell?"  he  asked 
harshly. 

"I  have." 

"And  what  is  it?" 

"Do  you  think  you  can  hear  it  calmly?" 

"  I  can.  I  did  not  realize  that  you  had  any 
special  story,  but  I  see,  of  course,  you  must  have 
something  to  disclose.  I  am  anxious  to  hear  it." 

He  had  no  idea,  of  course,  what  that  story 
would  be.  He  waited  for  it  with  certain  appre 
hension;  he  had  not  completely  disabused  his 
mind  of  that  sudden  suspicion  to  which  he  had 
previously  given  utterance,  and  which  had  come 
to  him  the  more  easily  because  of  his  own  fall, 
his  own  lack  of  loyalty.  And  the  strangeness 
of  the  suspicion  made  it  the  more  unbearable; 
for  whatever  he  might  have  said,  or  done,  or 
been,  he  had  never  thought  other  of  her,  if  she 
lived,  than  that  she  was  true,  faithful,  and  de- 

[250] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

voted  to  him.  He  did  not  really  believe  differ 
ently,  now,  or  he  could  not  have  controlled 
himself  even  as  imperfectly  as  he  had.  But  the 
suspicion  was  there  in  spite  of  every  effort  he 
made  to  reassure  himself,  the  woman  helping  him 
but  little  by  her  attitude  mental  and  physical. 

"And  do  you  think  such  a  woman  as  I,"  she 
began,  and  as  she  spoke  she  rose  to  her  feet, 
extending  her  arms  widely  before  him  in  splen 
did  gesture  as  if  inviting  the  most  critical  judg 
ment  with  absolute  confidence  of  an  approving 
verdict,  "could  be  alone  in  the  world,  with  a 
tie  so  tenuous  as  that  contingent  upon  the  re 
mote  possibility  of  your  being  alive,  without 
having  a  story  to  tell,  Stephen  Cleveland?" 

This  time  it  was  the  man  who  sat  down,  while 
the  woman  remained  standing,  their  positions  of 
the  previous  hour  being  thus  reversed.  Indeed, 
his  knees  fairly  gave  way  beneath  him  at  the 
rush  of  emotions  consequent  upon  his  wife's 
words. 

"  I  wait,"  he  said,  with  deepening  gravity, 
"  for  what  you  have  to  reveal." 

"You  have  been  frank  with  me;  I  shall  be 
frank  with  you.  While  your  lovely  Spirit  of 

[251] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

the  Island  wooed  and  won  you "  —  she  had 
divined  that  phase  of  their  relations,  evidently, 
for  he  remembered  that  he  had  not  said  anything 
to  warrant  that  conclusion,  —  "  there  were  those 
who  sought  my  heart  and  person  as  well." 

"  I  can  well  believe  that,"  reluctantly  admitted 
the  man  who  had  faced  so  many  desperate  situa 
tions  in  life,  but  never  one  quite  like  this,  he 
thought. 

With  the  growing  agonizing  suspicion  that  it 
became  more  difficult  to  keep  under  control,  he 
could  not  tell  whither  this  discourse  was  about 
to  tend,  or  what  appalling  revelation  might  be 
made  to  him.  Yet,  having  in  his  hand  the  clue, 
he  was  determined  to  follow  it  wherever  it  might 
lead.  And  —  can  you  believe  it,  dear  reader?  — 
his  own  course,  Felicity,  his  little  son,  the  years 
on  the  island,  what  they  had  been,  were  swept 
out  of  his  mind  on  the  instant.  In  this  possible 
new  development  these  things,  which  had  bulked 
so  large,  counted  for  nothing  with  him,  though 
she  had  not  so  easily  forgotten. 

He  confronted  her  with  much  the  same  feel 
ing  that  a  judge  might  experience  before  a 
criminal.  His  mis  judgment  of  her  was  com- 

[252] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

plete  and  absolute.  The  utterly  unwarranted 
suspicion  was  fast  becoming  an  assurance,  the 
idea  an  obsession. 

She  could  not  know  or  realize  that;  she  was 
only  playing  with  him,  to  make  him  see  that  she 
had  not  been  undervalued,  throwing  her  own  de 
votion  into  higher  relief  by  showing  that  it  had 
surmounted,  if  not  temptation,  at  least  oppor 
tunity.  She  was  playing  with  fire  of  course; 
nay,  more,  she  was  carelessly  handling  ex 
plosives  of  the  most  violent  character,  which 
would  most  certainly  rend  her. 

"  Perhaps  I  would  better  begin  at  the  begin 
ning,"  she  said  at  last. 

"  That  will  be  best,"  he  assented. 


[253] 


CHAPTER  XIX 

HOW  JULIA  CLEVELAND  RAISED  A  STORM  SHE 
COULD   NOT   QUELL 

IN  that  whaleboat,  then,"  she  began,  "we 
drifted  for  many  days ;  our  scanty  stores  of 
provision  were  soon  consumed,  the  fresh  water 
was  drunk  to  the  last  drop.  One  by  one  the 
men  died,  until  finally  the  boatswain  and  I  only 
were  left  alive.  Then  we  were  picked  up  by  a 
whaler,  the  Susan  and  Jane,  commanded  by 
Captain  Derby  Crowninshield,  who  is  now  in 
command  of  this  ship  —  my  ship,  by  the  way. 
Oh,  what  anguish  and  despair  I  suffered !"  she 
cried,  her  words  coming  from  her  with  tor 
rential  energy  and  force,  as  her  mind  conjured 
up  again  the  sorrows  and  agonies  of  those  awful 
hours,  as  fresh  in  her  mind  as  if  they  had  hap 
pened  only  yesterday.  "  How  I  longed  for  you, 
for  some  assurance  that  you  were  alive  still !  Or 
if  you  were  dead,  how  I  craved  to  die  with  you! 
Life  without  you  was  insupportable.  I  could 

[254] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

not  bear  it.  I  stared  at  that  burning  ship  until 
my  eyes  could  see  nothing.  Light  went  out  for 
me.  I  prayed,  I  remember,  that  it  might  be 
forever;  and  when  the  day  broke,  they  tell  me, 
God  had  heard  my  prayer.  Mercifully  I  knew 
nothing  then  and  thereafter,  for  I  was  a  mad 
woman.  And  in  my  madness  I  used  to  sit  look 
ing  toward  the  south,  hour  after  hour,  murmur 
ing  your  name.  Even  insane,  I  longed  for  you. 
But  literally  I  knew  nothing  from  the  hour  I 
lost  sight  of  your  ship  until  my  baby  was  born 
in  Honolulu,  months  after." 

"Your  baby!  Was  there  a  child?" 
'Yes,  yes,  your  son  and  mine,  born  of  sor 
row  and  bereavement,  calling  me  to  reason  again 
and  filling  my  heart  with  harder  pains  and  more 
unbearable  than  birth  throes  even.  Oh,  my  God, 
how  I  rebelled  against  Him  when  the  poor  little 
baby  died  after  summoning  me  again  to  remem 
brance!  To  take  my  little  son,  who  looked  so 
like  the  husband  that  I  loved  and  had  lost,  seemed 
so  cruel  to  me.  But  now,  now,  I  am  glad  he  did 
not  live  to  see  the  dishonor  of  his  father." 

She  stopped  and  stared  at  her  husband  in  a 
rush    of    bitter    recollection    and    shame.      He 

[255] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

wanted  to  throw  himself  at  her  feet  for  the  mo 
ment,  carried  away  by  her  eloquent,  moving 
plea.  And  yet  he  winced  at  her  last  assertion, 
and  in  unconscious  justification  sought  to  recur 
to  his  suspicions  of  before. 

"Go  on,"  he  said;  and  it  was  strange  indeed 
that  the  remembrance  of  poor  little  Felicity's 
bright-eyed  baby  boy,  whom  he  had  known  and 
loved,  did  not  move  him  so  much  as  the  story  of 
this  child  of  sorrow,  whom  he  had  never  seen. 

'  Yes,  I  will  go  on,"  replied  the  woman,  who 
in  spite  of  her  own  pain  as  these  ever  fresh  mem 
ories  of  that  sad  and  bitter  past  overwhelmed 
her  again,  yet  exulted  in  the  suffering  she  was 
causing  him,  and  intended  that  he  should  drink 
his  cup  to  the  very  dregs.  "  Foresman  and  I 
managed  to  get  to  San  Francisco.  I  sought  for 
work  and  found  none:  positions  that  were 
offered  to  me  I  could  not  accept.  The  little 
money  we  had  from  the  sale  of  the  whaleboat 
to  Captain  Crowninshield,  and  from  Fores- 
man's  pay  while  he  was  on  the  ship,  was  soon 
spent.  The  old  man  fell  ill.  He  had  saved  my 
life  almost  at  the  sacrifice  of  his  own.  He  had 
given  me  his  portion  of  the  food  and  drink  in 

[256] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

the  whaleboat.  He  had  watched  over  me,  cared 
for  me  like  a  child  while  I  was  mad.  There  was 
nothing  I  ought  not  to  do  for  him,  nothing  I 
would  not  do.  And  I  endured  everything.  Even 
then,  poor,  friendless,  desperate,  heart-broken,  I 
was  thinking  of  you — you  —  only  you.  I  was 
planning,  hoping,  praying.  I  had  but  one 
dream,  one  ambition :  to  get  a  ship,  to  get  money, 
to  get  men,  to  go  to  seek  you.  I  'd  have  sold 
my  soul  for  you  then.  Morning,  noon,  night, 
day  after  day,  week  after  week,  I  prayed, 
worked,  labored,  struggled  on.  And  you — you 
were  happy  on  that  island  in  that  woman's  arms ! 
God,  oh  God,  is  there  justice  in  this  world  any 
more,  I  wonder?" 

"Julia!"  he  cried. 

"Stop,  don't  interrupt  me!  I  failed  every 
where  and  at  everything;  even  hope  at  last  was 
taken  from  me.  One  night  in  San  Francisco  I 
went  out  on  the  street  to  beg  assistance  from 
any  passer-by.  I  had  pawned  or  sold  everything 
we  had,  except  this." 

She  lifted  her  hand  as  she  spoke,  and  showed 
her  wedding  ring.  As  he  looked  at  it  she  slowly 
drew  it  from  her  finger  and  dropped  it  negli- 
[2571 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

gently  and  indifferently  on  the  table  between 
them.  He  watched  it  roll  a  little,  heard  it  ring 
a  little  on  the  polished  wood  until  it  came  to  rest. 
Then  she  slowly  pushed  it  toward  him. 

"  Don't  do  that,  Julia,  don't  do  it,"  he  pro 
tested. 

"  That  night,"  resumed  the  woman,  unheeding, 
"I  met  Ellison.  You  remember  Hampton 
Ellison?" 

"  Certainly.  When  the  Swiftsure  was  in  San 
Francisco  I  lent  him  money,  gave  him  a  small 
'  adventure  '  — '  grub  staked  '  him,  I  think  they 
called  it." 

"  I  remembered  that,"  said  the  woman,  "  and 
he  remembered  it  too.  He  had  enjoyed  some 
little  success  prospecting:  there  was  something 
to  your  account,  he  offered  it  to  me,  and  I  took 
it  thankfully." 

"God  bless  him!" 

"Perhaps  you  will  not  be  so  quick  to  praise 
him  when  you  hear  further." 

"What  further  is  there?" 

"Much,  but  it  can  be  told  in  few  words. 
After  a  while  we  entered  into  partnership, 
searching  the  hills  for  gold.  It  was  my  dream 

[258] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

that  you  might  be  alive  somewhere,  that  what 
did  happen  had  happened,  that  I  might  get  a 
ship  and  search  the  seas  and  every  island  therein 
until  I  found  you.  Meantime  no  ship  ever  left 
Honolulu  or  San  Francisco  southbound,  with 
out  a  word  from  me  or  from  persons  whom  I 
enlisted  to  help  me.  Through  the  missionaries 
who  took  me  in  when  I  was  ill  in  the  first  place, 
and  through  the  port  authorities  in  the  other,  I 
had  every  incoming  ship  questioned  and  every 
outgoing  one  cautioned  to  look  for  you  and  send 
any  tidings  to  me ;  but  none  ever  came.  Oh,  how 
often  my  heart  broke  at  the  ocean's  silence! 
Never  a  word.  Another  woman  would  have 
given  up,  but  I  did  not,  I  could  not.  And  Elli 
son  helped  me.  Words  can  not  tell  you  what 
that  man  was  to  me."  She  ran  swiftly  on,  un 
heeding  his  black  and  frowning  looks  as  his 
suspicions  flamed  into  life  again.  "  He  was  al 
ways  with  me,  my  guide,  counsellor,  helper, 
friend.  Without  him  I  could  have  effected 
nothing.  He  loved  me,  and  he  served  me  un 
grudgingly.  Finally  we  went  into  the  moun 
tains  to  seek  for  gold  and  —  " 

"  Were  you  alone  in  the  mountains  with  that 
[259] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

man?  "  thundered  her  husband,  voicing  all  his 
rearoused  and  increased  suspicions  in  his  furious 
question,  which  was  not  so  much  an  interrogation 
as  an  accusation. 

"  The  boatswain  was  always  with  us." 

"That  blind,  doting,  old  fool,"  mocked  the 
man,  now  completely  beside  himself. 

"And  is  it  thus  you  recompense  old  Fores- 
man's  love  and  devotion,  without  which  I  had 
not  been  here?"  she  asked. 

"And  I  could  almost  wish  you  had  died  in 
the  boat  rather  than  have  been  false  to  me." 

"And  what  would  be  the  difference,  if  what 
you  say  were  true,  which  it  is  not,  between  you 
and  me?" 

"God!"  burst  from  the  man,  oblivious  of  the 
denial,  which  he  scarcely  heard,  and  his  face  was 
a  strange  thing  to  look  upon.  Jealousy,  passion, 
exacting,  cruel  as  the  grave,  tore  at  his  heart; 
rage  grappled  with  his  soul;  the  sweat  stood  out 
on  his  brow.  He  leaned  forward,  one  arm  stole 
across  the  table  toward  her,  his  hand  clenched. 
"  That 's  different,"  he  cried  out  at  last. 

"I  can  see  no  difference." 

"What  you  can  see  doesn't  matter,  it  is  what 
[260] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

I  can  see  now  that  counts.  That  man  loved  you, 
you  don't  deny  it,  you  can't  deny  it.  How  could 
he  help  it?  You  thought  me  dead  —  perhaps  you 
married  him?" 

"  No,"  said  the  woman  quickly.  She  was  ap 
palled  at  the  black  passion  and  overpowering 
wrath  she  saw  in  her  husband's  face,  and  she 
hastened  to  speak.  "No,  I  didn't  marry  him." 

"True,"  he  sneered,  completely  beside  him 
self,  poor  blind  man,  "you  had  some  compunc 
tions  of  conscience,  I  suppose.  You  did  n't  know 
that  I  was  dead.  The  law  —  you  didn't  violate 
that,  being  a  virtuous  and  well-brought-up 
woman.  This  is  his  ship  and  you  have  been 
his  —  " 

She  was  not  the  first  woman,  nor  would  she 
be  the  last,  to  raise  a  storm  she  could  not  quell. 
She  had  not  intended  to  allow  matters  to  go  so 
far;  she  had  not  realized  the  love  in  which  her 
husband  held  her;  the  truth  of  what  he  said  had 
not  come  to  her.  Had  she  made  too  much  of 
his  association  with  little  Felicity? 

When  she  discovered  that  the  suspicion  which 
she  had  tacitly  allowed  him  to  entertain  had 
become  a  certainty  to  him,  when  she  saw  his  pas- 

[261] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

sionate  indignation,  when  she  realized  what  con 
clusions  were  tearing  at  his  heart,  she  repented 
what  she  had  done,  in  even  for  a  moment  suc 
cumbing  to  the  temptation  to  torture  him. 

His  punishment  was  so  fearful,  he  was  suf 
fering  so  because  of  her  action,  that  she  could 
scarcely  fathom  it,  even  in  her  enlightenment 
through  her  own  heart-breaking  sorrow.  She 
began  to  realize  dimly  that  his  life  with  Felicity 
had  been  an  episode  after  all,  and  that  she  her 
self  was  the  object  of  his  adoration.  A  rush 
of  womanly  tenderness,  of  compassion,  almost 
inclined  her  to  disclose  her  real  feeling  for  him, 
but  she  fought  it  down.  Her  evil  genius  was 
by  her  side  in  that  hour. 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  rose  unsteadily, 
he  stepped  to  her  side  of  the  table  and  looked 
down  upon  her,  his  face  no  less  white  than  hers. 

"Do  you  know  what  you  have  done?"  he 
asked. 

"Nothing,  nothing,  before  God!"  she  pro 
tested. 

And  this  time  it  was  he  who  laughed. 

She  stared  at  him  fascinated,  making  no 
sound.  The  direction  of  affairs  had  suddenly 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

been  taken  from  her.  His  was  now  the  dom 
inant  will.  What  was  he  going  to  do  with  her? 
was  the  question  which  throbbed  in  the  heart  of 
the  civilized,  as  it  had  throbbed  in  the  heart 
of  the  uncivilized,  sister.  It  was  the  old  query  of 
woman  to  man.  Whether  based  on  right  and 
justice  or  not,  who  can  say? 

That  laugh,  while  it  frightened  her,  brought 
her  to  herself.  The  matter  had  gone  far  enough, 
too  far.  In  the  pause  that  ensued  she  recovered 
herself  and  flamed  into  sudden  indignation  that 
matched  his  own,  half  forced,  half  natural  at 
first,  but  soon  altogether  natural  and  overwhelm 
ing.  What  manner  of  man  was  this,  that  he 
could  hear  her  story,  that  he  could  see  her,  that 
he  could  know  her  as  she  was,  and  think  thus  of 
her?  Now  he  was  persuaded  that  she  was  even 
as  he  had  been.  It  was  monstrous,  shocking. 
She  was  furious.  With  quick  reversal  of  emo 
tions,  she  broke  out  with  resentment. 

She  had  never  faced  such  volcanic  passions 
as  she  faced  then;  she  realized  that  if  he  had 
found  means  at  hand  he  might  have  killed  her, 
but  she  was  strangely  unafraid.  He  had  for 
gotten  everything  but  this  woman  he  loved  and 

[263] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

her  mordant  words.  His  life  for  the  past  few 
years  was  utterly  blotted  from  his  memory.  He 
saw  only  this  one  woman  —  his  wife,  great  God, 
his  wife!  She  had  forgotten  everything  but  his 
accusation,  too. 

"  Damn  you,"  cried  the  man  furiously,  grasp 
ing  her  by  the  shoulder  and  shaking  her  with  a 
force  of  which  he  was  not  in  the  least  conscious, 
"  how  dare  you  stand  there  and  speak  to  me  like 
that?" 

"And  how  dare  you,"  cried  Julia  in  return, 
finding  voice  swiftly,  "  fresh  from  the  clasp  of 
another  woman's  arms,  curse  me,  even  if  I  had 
done  what  you  did?  Take  off  your  hand,  Cap 
tain  Stephen  Cleveland!" 

She  rose  and  confronted  him  unflinchingly. 
The  roughness  of  his  touch  had  quickened  her 
into  speech  and  action.  She  resented  it,  and  yet 
was  glad  for  the  excuse  of  it.  This  was  her 
hour  after  all.  She  did  not  mean  to  let  it  escape 
her.  He  had  transgressed,  it  was  right  he  should 
suffer  —  the  more  the  better.  And  yet  in  spite 
of  herself  she  resorted  to  justification. 

"I  am  innocent  —  " 

"Innocent!"  he  cried,  in  scorn. 
[264] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"  But  if  I  were  guilty,  what  difference  would 
there  be,  before  God,  between  us?"  she  de 
manded. 

But  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  was  in  no 
mood  to  hear  appeals  to  reason. 

"  Had  I  a  weapon,"  he  cried,  "  I  'd  kill  you 
where  you  stand." 

'You  asked  my  forgiveness  a  moment  since; 
would  you  give  yours  to  me  if  I  were  what  you 
thought  me?"  she  persisted. 

"  No,"  cried  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland,  "  so 
help  me  God,  never." 

And  again  the  woman  sat  down,  and  again 
by  superhuman  effort  she  summoned  laughter 
to  her  lips,  laughter  so  mocking,  so  insulting, 
so  exacerbating  in  its  character  that  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland  could  stand  it  no  longer. 
He  absolutely  and  entirely  lost  the  last  vestiges 
of  self-control.  To  his  eternal  shame  be  it  said, 
he  leaned  across  the  table  and  struck  her. 

"You  —  you — ,"  he  cried,  adding  an  awful 
epithet  to  his  words. 

And  then  he  turned  and  hurled  himself  out 
of  the  cabin  and  into  the  night. 

The  blow  hurt  her ;  his  rough  fingers  left  their 
[265] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

mark  on  her.  The  terrible  word  he  flung  at  her 
hurt  her  too.  She  forgot  that  she  had  tacitly 
allowed  the  first  uncontrollable  suspicion  to 
lodge  in  his  mind,  and  that  she  had  attempted 
to  contradict  it  too  late.  Yes,  it  hurt.  I  pre 
sume  even  the  harlot  does  not  rejoice  to  be  so 
proclaimed. 

Yet  there  was  almost  a  benediction  to  the 
woman  in  his  action.  If  he  had  so  much  as  laid 
the  weight  of  his  finger  on  her  ungently  before 
all  this  had  happened,  she  would  have  raged 
against  it  with  all  her  soul  in  arms;  but  now  she 
found  it  proof  that  he  loved  her  in  spite  of 
Felicity,  in  spite  of  the  world. 

She  laughed  again,  but  in  a  different  way, 
and  then  she  buried  her  face  in  her  hands  and 
sobbed  and  cried  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 


[266] 


CHAPTER  XX 

WHEREIN    THE    WORLDLY    WISDOM    OF    THE    OLD 
BOATSWAIN  IS  HEARD  TO  GREAT  ADVANTAGE 

JULIA  CLEVELAND  was  no  longer  her 
natural,  consistent,  carefully  poised,  con 
scientious  self.  She  was  become  as  variable  and 
inconstant  in  her  decisions  and  conclusions  as  she 
had  once  been  resolute  and  determined. 

In  this  wild  rebellion  against  fate,  in  this  un 
righteous  but  natural  determination  to  take  the 
ordering  of  affairs  into  her  own  hands,  to  ren 
der  justice,  to  inflict  punishment,  to  wreak  ven 
geance  in  spite  of  the  Divine  Dispenser  of  these 
things,  she  was  swept  from  her  moorings,  and 
tossed  about  upon  a  frantic  ocean  of  circum 
stance  like  a  dismantled  and  rudderless  ship, 
which  is  helpless  in  the  rude  buffeting  of  adverse 
seas. 

One  thing  stood  out  more  and  more  clearly, 
however.  He  had  thought  her  base;  well,  he 
should  be  allowed  to  enjoy  that  thought,  to  lux- 

[267] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

uriate  in  it,  to  be  tortured  by  it,  until  he  was 
broken  even  as  she.  She  would  not  contradict 
it,  she  would  not  condescend  to  explain.  Pleas 
for  forgweness  must  come  from  him,  and  him 
alone,  come  what  might.  So  outraged  woman 
hood  declared. 

And  in  all  this  the  woman  and  the  man  pas 
sionately  and  devotedly  loved  each  other.  Does 
that  seem  strange?  Does  it  seem  impossible  that 
such  a  state  of  affairs  could  arise  and  continue 
when  five  minutes  of  plain  speech  and  reason 
able  hearing  could  have  straightened  it  all  out? 
Dear  reader,  lives  have  been  wrecked,  causes 
lost,  the  fate  of  nations  jeoparded  for  lack  of 
just  such  five  minutes  of  plain  speech  and  reason 
able  hearing.  And  however  unreal  and  unbe 
lievable  it  may  be,  that  is  just  what  happened 
between  these  two.  His  unworthy  suspicion,  and 
her  unworthy  willingness  to  let  him  be  hoist  by 
his  own  petar,  bade  fair  to  sever  them  forever, 
and  just  when  they  had  been  reunited. 

Julia  Cleveland  did  not  indulge  herself  in  her 
joy,  or  grief,  or  resentment,  or  contrition,  or  de 
termination,  for  any  great  length  of  time.  A 
sudden  thought  raced  athwart  the  course  of  her 

[268] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

bitter  thoughts,  which  gave  her  instant  alarm. 
Her  husband  had  left  her  in  a  savagely  desperate 
mood.  He  had  been  aroused  to  such  a  pitch  of 
fierce  and  bitter  resentment  by  his  own  imagin 
ings,  which  had  filled  him  with  such  anguish  and 
despair,  that  she  was  afraid  he  might  do  him 
self  bodily  violence  before  she  had  time  to 
prevent  it. 

Therefore  she  dried  her  tears,  composed  her 
self  as  best  she  could,  summoned  the  cabin  boy 
who  waited  upon  her  personally,  and  bade  him 
ask  Mr.  Foresman,  who  since  he  was  a  passenger 
slept  aft  in  one  of  the  staterooms  off  the  larger 
cabin  below,  to  come  to  her  immediately.  In  a 
few  moments  the  old  boatswain  presented  him 
self  before  her  in  answer  to  her  summons. 

"Foresman,"  she  began,  "sit  down;  I  have 
something  to  tell  you." 

"  Yes,  ma  'am." 

"  You  guess,  of  course,  what  had  happened  on 
the  island  between  my  —  between  Captain  Cleve 
land  and  —  that  woman?"  she  began  without 
further  preliminaries. 

Julia  Cleveland  hated  to  speak  of  it,  even  to 
so  old  and  valued  a  friend  as  the  faithful  com- 
[269] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

panion  of  her  wanderings,  the   sharer  of  her 
fortunes,  yet  she  was  compelled  to  do  so. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  most  anybody  could  see  that." 

"That  my  husband  should  be  —  unfaithful  — 
to  me,"  said  the  woman,  nerving  herself  to  her 
task  and  incidentally  freshening  her  wrath  by 
the  repetition  of  her  wrongs,  "has  nearly  killed 
me.  You  know  how  true  I  have  been  to  him;  you 
know  that  I  have  never  had  a  thought  that  was 
not  for  him ;  you  know  that  I  could  have  married 
a  dozen  times  over  if  I  had  wanted  to ;  you  know 
that  Mr.  Ellison  would  have  given  me  anything 
and  everything  if  I  had  said  *  yes '  to  him." 

"  I  know,"  assented  the  old  boatswain  gravely, 
as  the  woman  paused. 

*  You  know,  too,  how  my  heart's  desire,  my 
only  hope,  my  fondest  dream,  has  been  to  get 
enough  money  to  fit  out  this  ship  and  to  go  in 
search  of  my  husband,  on  the  bare  chance  that  he 
might  be  alive  still." 

"  Aye,  ma'am,  I  know  that  too." 

"And  you  know  how  we  cruised  these  waters 
for  a  year,  examining  every  island,  following 
every  indication,  running  down  every  possible 
clue,  until  at  last  we  found  him." 

[270] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

The  old  boatswain  nodded  his  head.  All  this 
was,  of  course,  very  fresh  in  his  memory.  Not 
holding  the  key  to  her  thought  or  action  he  won 
dered  why  she  repeated  it. 

"  And  you  know  how  we  found  him." 

"How  we  found  him,  ma'am?" 

"  In  the  arms  of  another  woman! " 

"  Mrs.  Cleveland,"  said  Foresman  gently,  "  he 
was  alone  on  that  island;  he'd  been  there  well 
nigh  onto  five  years,  alone  with  that  woman;  an' 
even  in  death  she  was  a  beautiful  woman.  No 
doubt  he  was  sore  tempted.  Can't  ye  forgive 
him?" 

"Are  you,  too,  his  defender,  Foresman?"  she 
asked,  wondering. 

And  so  might  Caesar  have  spoken  to  Brutus. 

"  Not  exactly,  ma'am;  I  know  he  done  wrong. 
I  '11  admit  it  freely.  I'm  only  tryin'  to  show  ye 
that  such  things  almost  had  to  happen." 

"And  does  man  know  no  devotion  so  great 
that  there  can  be  no  temptation?" 

"I  don't  know  about  that,  ma'am.    I'm  only 

an  unlarned  old  sailor,  in  spite  of  all  the  money 

I  Ve   got    'twixt   ye    an'    Mr.    Ellison ;    but    I 

would  n't  be  too  hard  on  him.    If  I  'm  any  judge 

[271] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

of  Cap'n  Cleveland,  he  loves  ye,  he  allus  has 
loved  ye,  an'  he  allus  will.  I've  know'd  him  a 
long  time  an'  sailed  with  him  afore  ye  an'  him 
was  married.  He  never  had  no  time  or  wish  to 
fool  around  with  other  women  folks,  like  most 
young  officers  does,  'specially  in  foreign  parts  an' 
away  from  home." 

"  But  this  girl  and  her  baby,"  persisted  the 
wife,  who  was  getting  a  wonderful  degree  of 
comfort  out  of  the  boatswain's  assurances. 

"  In  spite  of  her,  it 's  true,"  urged  the  old  man, 
with  growing  earnestness.  "  I  can't  explain  it, 
but  I  feels  it  —  here,"  he  laid  his  hand  over  his 
heart  as  he  spoke. 

"  But  I  don't  feel  it,  I  can't  see  it  that  way," 
insisted  Julia,  seeking  justification  for  her  action 
in  not  dispossessing  her  husband's  mind  of  its 
idea,  and  for  her  contemplated  —  nay,  already  de 
termined  upon  —  course  in  letting  him  think  what 
he  would ;  and  yet  hoping,  perhaps,  to  be  assured 
again  of  his  devotion.  "  And  I  intend  to  punish 
him  for  it,  too,"  she  continued. 

"Lord  bless  ye!"  exclaimed  the  old  man, 
simply.  "  I  thought  ye  loved  him." 

"  I    do,"    admitted    the    woman,    promptly. 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"  Can't  you  see  that 's  why  I  am  punishing  him? 
If  I  did  not  care,  it  would  not  matter,  but  —  it 
almost  killed  me  when  I  saw  him  there  with  that 
woman  and  his  baby.  I  thought  of  my  own  little 
boy  dead  at  Honolulu.  I  thought  of  every 
thing." 

'  The  fact  that  ye  love  him  this  way,  an'  will 
forgive  him  for  what  he  done  '11  punish  him 
more  'n  anything  else,"  said  the  boatswain,  with 
an  insight  as  rare  and  a  philosophy  as  true  as 
they  were  both  remarkable  in  a  rude  old  sailor, 
presumably  unfamiliar  with  the  tenderer,  finer 
things  of  life. 

But  Julia  could  not,  as  she  said,  see  it  that 
way.  She  had  rushed  impulsively  and  blindly 
into  her  present  situation.  He  had  in  a  measure 
forced  the  affair  upon  her.  Well,  she  would 
pursue  her  course  to  the  end,  she  would  not  be 
turned  lightly  from  it  now.  Besides,  it  was  too 
late  any  way. 

"A  few  moments  ago  in  this  veiy  cabin,"  she 
said,  "  I  allowed  him  to  infer  that  what  he  had 
done  I  had  done." 

The  old  man  stared  at  her  in  bewilderment  at 
this  abrupt  announcement.  Indeed,  he  did  not 

[273] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

quite  take  in  the  full  purport  of  her  remark  at 
first. 

"Don't  you  understand?"  continued  the 
woman  emphatically.  "  He  accused  me  —  me !  — 
of  unfaithfulness;  he  charged  that  what  he  had 
done  I  had  done ;  that  Mr.  Ellison  and  I  —  " 

"The  man's  mad!" 

"No,  not  exactly;  I  refused  to  answer  his 
questions;  the  fault  is  partly  mine.  I  only  said 
his  doubts  insulted  me." 

"  Ye  'd  oughter  denied  it  flat,"  interrupted 
the  old  man  bluntly. 

"I  did  after  a  while,  but  it  was  too  late;  he 
did  n't  hear,  or  if  he  did  he  refused  to  believe." 

"  But,  good  God,  ma'am,"  burst  from  the  ap 
palled  auditor,  "  ye  know  it  ain't  true." 

"Of  course  I  know  it  is  not  true.  And  he 
should  know  it  also.  That  he  did  not  almost  kills 
me ;  that  he  could  believe  me  —  to  be  such  as  he 
and  that  other  woman  —  " 

"  What  did  ye  let  him  think  that  for?  For 
give  my  presumption  in  questionin'  of  ye,  but  — " 

"  I  did  it  that  he  might  suffer  what  I  suffered." 

"  Well,  of  all  the  —  Don't  ye  see,  ma'am, 
that  ye  've  throwed  away  yer  advantage  over 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

him;  that  afore,  ye  was  the  true  one,  and  he 
wa'  n't,  and  ye  had  jest  that  superiority  over  him, 
jest  that  much  hold  on  him?  Now  ye  both  stand 
on  a  common  deck." 

The  profound  truth  of  these  conclusions  of  the 
old  man  did  not  affect  Julia  Cleveland  one  whit. 

"  I  don't  care  on  what  I  stand,  I  want  to  make 
him  feel  what  I  felt.  I  want  to  make  him  suffer 
and  come  to  my  feet.  He  wants  forgiveness ;  let 
him  learn  what  it  is  to  forgive,  then." 

'  Well,  ye  've  gone  about  it  in  the  worst  possi 
ble  way,  if  ye  '11  forgive  my  freedom  in  sayin' 
so." 

"  Say  anything  you  like." 

"An'  it  was  a  black  deliberate  slander  agin 
yerself  an'  the  truth,  ma'am,  even  though  ye  only 
let  him  think  his  own  bad  thought." 

"  Of  course  it  was  not  true,"  admitted  the 
woman,  impatiently;  "but  what  of  that? 
Haven't  I  told  you  he  would  not  listen  to  me? 
Now  he  has  made  his  bed,  let  him  lie  on  it." 

"  Ain't  no  good  never  goin'  to  come  from  no  lie, 

ma'am,"  said  the  intrepid  old  man.    "  I  ain't  any 

too  ree-ligious  myself,  but  I  've  lived  long  enough 

to  find  that  out.    In  effect  ye  've  lied  to  him  to 

[275] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

hurt  him ;  but  it  '11  hurt  ye  worst  of  the  two  on 
ye,  an'  —  " 

"  I  can't  be  hurt  worse  than  I  am." 
"  Oh,  yes,  ye  can,  and  my  advice  to  ye  is  to — " 
"I  didn't  call  you  here  to  ask  your  advice," 
interrupted  Julia  Cleveland,  who  found  the  old 
man's  strictures  as  hard  to  bear  as  they  were  un 
expected  and  unusual  —  and  true,  she  would  have 
admitted  in  her  heart  if  she  had  allowed  her  bet 
ter  self  to  get  the  ascendency  again,  "  but  to  tell 
you  that  I  want  a  strict  watch  kept  over  Captain 
Cleveland.    He  might  do  himself  some  hurt." 

'  Ye  need  n't  fear  that.  I  know  him,  ma'am. 
Whatever  he  might  do  eventually,  he  '11  do  nothin' 
now  till  he  gits  his  hands  on  Mr.  Ellison,  an'  him 
an  innercent  man.  God  help  one  of  'em ! " 

"  I  had  n't  thought  of  that,"  faltered  Julia 
Cleveland,  who  had  gone  into  the  matter,  after 
all,  without  considering  what  all  the  consequences 
might  be. 

"  Well,  ye  'd  better  think  about  it  now." 
"  I  suppose  I  '11  have  to  tell  him  the  truth  be 
fore  we  land,"  she  admitted  reluctantly  in  the 
face  of  this  obvious  possibility  which  her  blind, 
passionate  resentment  had  kept  from  her. 

[276] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"  I  'm  afraid  it  '11  be  too  late  then,  —  I  'm 
afraid  it 's  too  late  now.  Ye  see,  he  won't  be 
lieve  ye,  —  there  's  only  one  person  that  can  con 
vince  him  of  the  truth  now." 

"  You  can  tell  him  that  I  am  telling  him  the 
truth." 

"  That  won't  do  no  good." 

"  It  must,  it  shall,"  she  cried. 

"  It  stands  to  reason  with  him  that  a  woman 
like  ye  've  allowed  him  to  think  ye  are,  who  '11 
do  a  thing  like  he  thinks  ye  did,  would  n't  stop 
at  a  lie  to  git  out  of  it.  An'  if  Cap'n  Stephen 
Cleveland  knows  me,  an'  as  he 's  no  fool  he  does 
know  me,  he  knows  I  'd  lie  in  a  minute  to  save 
ye  from  the  least  trouble.  I  'm  a  worthless  old 
hulk,  it  don't  make  no  difference  to  nobody  what 
becomes  o'  me.  D'  ye  see  what  this  means? 
He 's  got  to  git  the  truth  from  Mr.  Ellison,  an' 
from  him  alone;  an'  I'm  afeerd  if  he  sees  him 
he'll  kill  him  afore  he  gits  a  chance  to  question 
him.  Good  Lord,  ma'am,  ye  Ve  raised  hell  — 
beggin'  yer  pardon  —  and  no  mistake." 

"  There  will  be  some  way  out  of  it,"  said  Julia 
Cleveland,  obstinately  refusing  to  acknowledge 
the  awful  situation. 

[277] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

She  was  not  the  first  woman  to  learn  what  all 
women,  and  all  men  too,  must  learn,  that  it  is 
profoundly  true  where  it  is  written :  "Vengeance 
is  mine;  I  will  repay,  saith  the  Lord,'3  —  and  that 
humanity  can  scarcely  interfere  in  the  Divine 
Plan  of  things  without  the  most  fearful  conse 
quences.  She  had  disregarded  this  truth  before; 
now  it  was  rising  and  confronting  her  with  an 
insistence  she  could  not  quiet. 

"  And,  anyway,  he  deserves  all  he  has  to 
suffer,"  she  insisted. 

"  Mebbe  he  does,  but  ye  ain't  the  one  to  give 
him  his  dee-sarts." 

"I'm  going  to  do  it,  anyway.  He  asked  me 
to  forgive  him  when  he  told  me  his  story;  and 
then  when  he  jumped  at  the  conclusion  that  I  was 
like  him,  I  asked  him  to  forgive  me." 

"And  what  did  he  say,  ma'am?" 

"He  cursed  me,"  answered  the  woman,  her 
voice  very  low  and  bitter.  "He  called  me — a 
name.  He  struck  me." 

"Well,"  said  the  boatswain,  gravely,  after 
looking  hard  at  her  flushed  face  for  a  little  space, 
"  he  can  hardly  be  blamed  fer  that;  ye  see,  what 
ye  let  him  think  was  so  monstrous." 

[278] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"  What  difference  was  there  between  my  story 
and  his?" 

"  All  the  difference  in  the  world." 

"  I  can't  see  it." 

"It's  a  fact,  nevertheless." 

"How?  What  he  really  did  he  thinks  I  did. 
In  his  mind  my  story  parallels  his  exactly  as 
possible.  We're  both  human  beings,  to  be 
judged  by  the  same  identical  standard  of  right 
and  wrong." 

"  Nevertheless,  there 's  a  great  difference." 

"In  the  eyes  of  God?" 

"Aye,  I'll  grant  ye  that  in  the  eyes  o'  God, 
ma'am,  men  and  women  are  probably  judged 
without  regard  to  sex  or  sarcumstances ;  but 
Cap'n  Cleveland  ain't  lookin'  at  it  with  the  eyes 
o'  God.  An'  the  world,  if  it  was  here,  would  n't 
be  lookin'  at  ye  with  them  eyes,  but  with  its  own 
eyes.  I  ain't  eddicated  or  book  larned,  but 
there's  some  things  a  man  knows  better 'n  a 
woman.  There's  all  the  difference  in  the 
world  'twixt  a  fallen  man  an'  a  fallen  woman: 
he  can  git  up  an'  go  away  and  leave  it 
all;  she  can't.  Cap'n  Cleveland's  past  is  buried 
back  on  that  island,  he's  through  with  it,  he's 

[279] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

done  with  it.  If  ye  'd  'a  done  this  thing,  yer 
past  would  be  livin'  still;  an'  if  Ellison  died,  it 
would  n't  make  no  difference  whatever.  It  'd 
allus  be  livin'.  Ye  could  even  bury  a  woman, 
like  we  done  on  the  island,  an'  somehow  or  other, 
right  or  wrong,  that  past  of  her  'n  will  live  while 
anybody  remembers  her.  There's  things  that  a 
man  loves  in  a  woman  besides  the  fact  that  she 's 
pretty,  or  handsome,  or  beautiful,  or  smart,  or 
companionable,  or  everything  else  of  that  kind 
that  a  woman  should  be;  an'  the  two  greatest 
things  that  a  man  cares  fer  in  a  woman  is  that 
she  is  pure,  ari  that  she fs  his  own" 

"  And  those  things  women  love  in  men,"  inter 
posed  Julia  Cleveland  stoutly. 

"  Yes,  but  it  ain't  the  same,  I  can't  explain  it. 
I  ain't  used  to  talkin'  an  argufyin'  on  these  yere 
subjects,  but  I  've  lived  long  an'  seed  much,  an' 
I  know  what  I  say  's  true.  The  woman  fallen 
breaks  up  the  family;  the  man  don't." 

"  But  can't  you  see  the  bitter  injustice  of  that 
view?  We  are  both  human  beings,  we  both  have 
heart  and  souls  and  bodies.  In  the  eyes  of  God 
there  is  no  difference,  there  can  be  no  difference 
between  us.  My  husband's  failure  hurts  me  as 

[280] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

my  supposed  failure  hurts  him  —  no  more,  no 
less." 

"That's  true  enough  in  thee-ory,"  admitted 
the  old  boatswain ;  "  an'  mebbe  his  failure,  as  ye 
call  it,  hurts  ye  more  than  yers  does  him,  from 
one  p'int  o'  view.  Ye  're  higher  than  him,  most 
women  are,  yer  heart  hurts  mor  'n  his ;  perhaps, 
ye  can  feel  deeper  'n  he  does,  but  he  feels 
deep  enough.  Not  only  his  heart  but  his  pride, 
his  manhood,  is  wounded.  I  wish  I  could 
express  it  better.  His  f eelin'  fer  the  future,  his 
love  fer  the  human  race,  ye  know,  it 's  "  —  the 
old  man  paused  and  thought  hard  —  "it's  like  a 
spring  that 's  been  poisoned.  If  ye  was  a  sailor 
man  an'  was  ree-duced  to  one  cask  of  water  an' 
went  to  it  in  yer  thirst  an'  found  that  was  — 
well,  rotten,  ye  'd  understand  his  feelin's." 

"  I  can  not  see  it  differently,"  said  the  woman 
stubbornly. 

'  Yes,  ye  can,  ma'am,  or  ye  would  n't  be  the 
woman  that  ye  are;  mebbe  ye  can't  see  it  now, 
ye  've  got  a  sore  hurt,  ye  can't  make  any  ex 
cuses  fer  a  man  in  the  situation  in  which  he  found 
hisself ,  but  ye  '11  see  it  some  day.  The  man 
loves  ye,  there  ain't  no  doubt  about  that;  he's 
[281] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

goin'  to  suffer  all  his  life  fer  what  he  done,  but  he 
ain't  going  to  suffer  fer  it  now  like  he  would  if 
ye  had  n't  allowed  him  to  believe  this  great 
monstrous  lie.  I  'd  tell  him  myself  that  it  ain't 
true,  only  't  would  n't  do  no  good." 

"  I  forbid  you  to  say  a  word  about  it  to  him. 
Don't  even  dare  discuss  it  with  him,  don't  men 
tion  it,  don't  even  answer  any  question  that  he 
may  put  to  you,  until  I  give  you  leave,"  she 
burst  out  furiously. 

"  Oh,  very  well,  I  won't,  ma'am.  It  ain't  fer 
the  likes  o'  me  to  interfere  betwixt  husband  an' 
wife.  I  won't  come  athwart  yer  hawse,"  said  the 
old  man  quickly. 

"  And  tell  Captain  Crowninshield,  without  giv 
ing  him  any  reason,  that  I  want  Captain  Stephen 
Cleveland  carefully  watched  whenever  he  is  on 
deck;  tell  him  too  about  assigning  a  cabin  to  him 
below,  and  that  for  the  present  he  will  take  his 
meals  with  the  other  officers,  and  I  will  continue 
to  take  mine  alone,  as  I  have  heretofore.  That 's 
all;  you  can  go  now." 

"  Thank  ye,  ma'am." 

The  old  man  feeling  that  he  had  said  all  that 
he  could,  rose  to  his  feet  and  turned  to  leave  the 

[282] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

cabin.  At  the  door  he  paused,  hesitated  a 
moment,  and  then  ventured  further,  delivering 
himself  of  a  parting  arrow. 

"  I  wish  to  God  ye  had  n't  allowed  him  to 
think  it  fer  a  minute,"  he  said,  then  giving  her 
no  time  to  reply,  he  went  out  on  the  deck. 

Julia  Cleveland  sat  late  in  the  night,  her  el 
bows  on  the  table,  her  face  in  her  hands,  thinking. 
Was  there,  after  all,  such  a  difference  between 
men  and  women  in  these  matters  as  the  boatswain 
had  said?  Her  common  sense  and  knowledge  of 
life  inclined  her  in  spite  of  herself  to  the  con 
clusion  that  the  old  man  was  right,  justice  and 
fair  play  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding.  She 
decided  after  weary  hours  that  with  her  at  least  it 
was  an  academic  question  merely;  and  yet,  since 
her  husband  believed  that  she  too  had  sinned,  it 
had  a  terribly  practical  side.  And  that  she  had 
in  eff ect  lied  when  she  did  not  force  his  suspicion 
out  of  his  heart,  as  she  knew  she  might  have  done, 
began  to  trouble  a  conscience  that  could  not  be 
always  and  forever  benumbed  by  pain. 

For  the  first  time  in  years  she  could  not  go  to 
sleep  because  of  that  conscience  which  had  never 
been  so  outraged  before.  Had  she  made  a  mis- 
[283] 


take?  If  so,  what  was  to  be  done  next?  She 
could  not  tell. 

Foresman  found  his  former  captain  moodily 
pacing  the  deck.  The  first  night-watch  had  been 
set  long  since,  two  bells  (nine  o'clock)  had 
chimed,  the  mate  of  the  watch  stood  on  the 
weather  side  of  the  deck,  staring  ahead.  Captain 
Crowninshield  had  turned  in,  and  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland,  as  suited  his  mood,  was  alone. 

"  A  fine  night,  Cap'n  Cleveland,  an'  thank  God 
ye  're  here,  sir,"  began  the  old  man  as  he  ap 
proached  him. 

"  Curse  you,"  said  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland, 
bitterly,  turning  on  him  sharply  with  clenched 
hands.  "Why  couldn't  you  have  prevented  it? 
My  God,  I'd  rather  have  died  on  that  island, 
than  have  been  rescued  to  hear  what  I  heard,  to 
learn  what  you  know,  and  she  knows,  and  I 
know,  and  Ellison  knows,  and  the  world  knows. 
My  God,  man,  why  did  n't  you  let  her  die  in  the 
boat?  That  would  have  been  better.  Don't 
speak  to  me  again,"  continued  he  roughly,  "or 
I  '11  forget  that  you  are  an  old  man  and  strike 
you  down." 

He  walked  aft  and  stood  moodily  staring  over 
[284] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

the  taffrail,  thinking  his  sad  and  bitter  thoughts, 
forgetful  quite  of  little  Felicity,  at  least  for  the 
moment. 

So  the  guilty  condemns  the  innocent,  a  com 
mon  enough  practice  in  the  administration  of  the 
world's  justice  so-called.  Once  it  was  even 
carried  as  far  as  a  Cross! 


[285] 


CHAPTER  XXI 

SHOWING      CAPTAIN      CLEVELAND      ARRANGING      A 

FUTURE,  WHICH  IS  NEVERTHELESS  IN  THE 

HANDS  OF  GOD 

WHO  shall  describe  that  long  voyage  home 
ward?  There  was  nothing  to  call  Julia 
Cleveland  back  to  San  Francisco.  Her  affairs 
there  were  in  good  hands,  her  agents  were  reliable 
and  to  be  trusted;  she  had  only  to  draw  the  div 
idends  on  her  shares  in  the  great  mine,  which,  as 
it  was  worked  by  a  competent  and  honest  super 
intendent,  developed  in  richness  beyond  any  one's 
expectations,  and  she  could  do  that  practically  as 
well  from  the  Eastern  seaboard  as  from  the 
Pacific.  Her  ship  was  amply  provided  for  a 
much  longer  cruise  than  she  had  made,  and  there 
was  nothing  to  prevent  her  making  the  best  of 
the  way  direct  to  Salem,  a  port  neither  he  nor  she 
had  visited  since  they  set  forth  in  the  Swiftsure 
so  many  years  before. 

Under  other  circumstances  she  would  have  con- 
[286] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

suited  her  husband  before  deciding  such  a  matter, 
but  now  she  felt  that  she  owed  him  nothing;  be 
sides,  the  ship  was  undoubtedly  hers,  and  she 
could  certainly  do  as  she  pleased  with  her  own. 
She  gave  her  orders  accordingly  to  Captain 
Crowninshield,  and  he  promptly  obeyed  them. 
Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  asked  no  questions 
and  made  no  attempt  to  interfere  with  the  navi 
gation  of  the  ship :  a  glance  at  the  charts  now  and 
then,  an  observation  of  the  compass,  indicated  to 
him  where  they  were  going. 

The  officers  of  the  ship  with  whom  he  messed, 
occupying  a  spare  cabin  off  what  might  be  called 
the  ward-room,  were  exceedingly  kind  to  him. 
Julia's  forethought  had  caused  to  be  prepared  a 
complete  outfit  for  him  before  they  left  San 
Francisco,  and  he  luxuriated  in  all  the  appoint 
ments  of  civilization.  Luxuriated  is  more  of  a 
figure  of  speech  than  anything  else,  for  at  first 
he  found  shoes  and  clothing  exceedingly  irksome. 
It  was  some  time  before  he  could  get  used  to 
them,  yet  he  appreciated  thoroughly  the  thought 
ful  care  and  provision  of  his  wife. 

Engrossed  in  his  own  troubles  and  therefore 
more  or  less  indifferent  to  what  had  happened  in 

[287] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

the  world  since  he  dropped  out  of  it,  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland  mingled  but  little  with  the 
officers.  He  had  almost  nothing  to  say  to  them, 
and  they,  respecting  his  moods  and  believing  — 
which  was  natural  enough  —  that  no  man  could 
go  through  the  adventures  which  had  befallen 
him  without  acquiring  a  certain  degree  of  taci 
turnity,  left  him  pretty  much  to  himself.  He 
kept  studiously  aloof  from  his  wife,  —  which 
was  natural  enough  too,  the  officers  and  men 
thought,  in  view  of  what  had  happened  upon  the 
island. 

Julia  Cleveland  did  not  shut  herself  up  in  the 
cabin;  but  when  she  appeared  on  the  deck,  her 
husband  either  went  below  or  stepped  forward, 
or  otherwise  got  out  of  her  vicinity,  as  he  easily 
could  in  so  large  a  ship.  He  had  settled  the  affair 
so  far  as  she  was  concerned,  and  there  was  noth 
ing  to  be  gained  by  a  further  discussion  of  it,  he 
thought,  so  he  ate  out  his  heart  alone  in  his 
despair.  And  she  found  to  her  surprise  that,  un 
less  she  put  her  pride  in  her  pocket  and  made 
advances  to  him,  she  had  absolutely  lost  control 
of  events.  Thinking  to  limit  his  punishment  by 
her  will,  she  found  that  the  reverse  was  more 

[388] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

nearly  true.  And  she  discovered  that  in  punish 
ing  him  she  was  also  punishing  herself. 

After  the  encounter  with  the  boatswain  on  the 
night  of  their  departure,  the  old  man,  too, 
avoided  him.  Foresman  had  the  free  range  of 
Julia's  cabin,  and  the  sagacious  and  true-hearted 
old  friend  was  a  great  comfort  to  her.  They 
went  over  the  situation  together  many  times,  the 
boatswain  stubbornly  affirming  and  reaffirming 
his  position,  Julia  arguing  with  him  against 
her  better  judgment  and  conviction,  maintain 
ing  her  cause  persistently  nevertheless. 

The  voyage  was  outwardly  as  uneventful  as 
any  cruise  that  was  ever  undertaken.  When 
they  rounded  the  Horn  the  sea  was  as  placid 
as  a  summer  mill-pond,  there  was  scarcely  wind 
enough  to  fill  the  royals.  Fortunately  these 
gentle  airs  were  soon  succeeded  by  splendid 
driving  gales.  They  enjoyed  a  fine  fair  wind 
up  the  Atlantic  and  made  great  progress. 
Strangely  enough  they  spoke  no  ships,  although 
they  passed  within  signal  distance  of  a  few, 
until  they  were  within  a  few  days  from  their 
home  port. 

Naturally  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  had 
[289] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

borrowed  a  sextant  from  Captain  Crowninshield, 
and  he  and  the  mate  checked  each  other  in  their 
observations,  and  of  course  each  knew  the  exact 
position  of  the  ship. 

Julia  Cleveland  had  gradually  developed  a 
growing,  overwhelming  yearning  for  communi 
cation  with  her  husband.  She  would  have 
welcomed  any  advances  he  might  have  made  to 
her.  His  silence  and  avoidance,  the  grim  and 
lonely  wretchedness  of  his  lot,  had  pleaded 
with  her  more  powerfully  than  all  the  boat 
swain's  arguments.  But  she  was  too  proud  to 
take  the  initiative  upon  herself.  She  was,  in 
fact,  completely  nonplussed  as  to  any  effective, 
practicable  way  to  reestablish  the  old  or  bring 
about  any  new  relationship  between  them. 

In  the  midst  of  her  longings  and  wild  plans, 
she  was  informed  by  the  boatswain  on  the  day 
before  they  expected  to  make  a  landfall,  that  her 
husband  wished  to  see  her.  She  could  have  seen 
him  on  the  instant,  having  nothing  to  do,  but  as 
the  invitation  had  come  from  him,  the  fact  gave 
her  a  certain  advantage,  and  she  used  it  mer 
cilessly.  Since  he  was  seeking  her  she  could 
afford  to  wait  a  little  longer;  so  she  sent  him 

[290] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

word  that  she  was  occupied  at  the  time,  but 
that  she  would  be  glad  to  see  him  at  eight  bells, 
or  at  the  close  of  the  afternoon  watch.  Then 
she  gave  herself  over  to  the  fondest  imagin 
ings,  the  wildest  dreams,  the  most  extravagant 
hopes. 

She  knew,  of  course,  that  an  interview  was 
necessary  and  inevitable.  But  what  he  would 
say,  and  what  she  could  say,  were  questions  that 
she  could  not  solve.  She  could  scarcely  even 
outline  any  course  of  action.  She  had  put  her 
self  in  his  hands  unwillingly,  unintentionally, 
and  the  determination  must  necessarily  come 
from  him.  She  chafed  against  this,  but  un- 
availingly.  She  could  only  pray  —  the  deceiver's 
prayer!  —  and  hope. 

Promptly  at  eight  bells  she  heard  him  knock 
at  the  door  of  the  cabin,  and  with  a  nervous 
voice  she  bade  him  enter.  It  was  a  soft  spring 
afternoon,  and  the  room  was  full  of  light.  Cap 
tain  Stephen  Cleveland  stopped  and  stared  hard 
at  his  wife.  She  was  thinner,  paler,  less  bril 
liant  than  she  had  been,  but  still  to  him  ineffably 
beautiful.  Upon  him  in  his  turn  the  anxieties 
and  griefs  and  apprehensions  of  the  long,  dreary 

[291  ] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

voyage  had  set  heavily  indeed;  yet  his  troubles 
had  in  a  measure  refined  him. 

He  was  worse  off  than  she,  for  she  was  con 
scious  of  her  innocence,  and  he  was  not;  she 
could  see  a  possible  end  to  the  situation,  and  he 
could  not;  her  love  for  him  could  bridge  the 
gap  that  opened  between  them,  and  his  could  not. 
She  could  forgive  her  real  wrong,  if  he  could 
not  forgive  his  fancied  one.  She  hoped,  against 
hope  and  against  her  reason  as  well,  that  she  had 
only  to  tell  him  that  she  had  been  indeed  true  to 
him,  to  have  him  believe  her,  and  all  would  be 
well. 

He  stood  very  straight  and  erect  before  her. 
There  was  no  cringing  about  the  man;  and 
secretly  her  heart  thrilled  to  the  recognition  of 
his  stark,  stern  manhood.  Those  long  weeks  of 
isolation  had  accustomed  her  somewhat  to  the 
thought  of  little  Felicity,  now  lying  still  and 
lonely  so  far  away.  Insensibly  time  and  dis 
tance  had  mellowed  some  of  her  antagonism. 
Her  passion  for  her  husband  was  always  great 
and  had  grown  greater ;  to  be  near  him  day  after 
day,  to  have  seen  him,  to  have  heard  his  voice 
even  infrequently,  had  been  enough  to  stir  her 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

heart  to  its  very  depths.  Because  she  loved  him 
she  was  willing  to  forgive  him,  because  she 
loved  him  she  longed  for  him. 

She  had  looked  forward  to  the  interview  with 
hope,  with  elation.  At  times  she  almost  forgot 
the  barrier  that  her  folly,  almost  as  much  as  his 
weakness,  had  raised  between  them.  She  forgot 
it  now,  looking  upon  him.  Instantly  her  eyes 
sought  his,  her  glance  became  tender,  there  was 
appeal  in  her  look,  she  made  a  wistful  little 
motion  of  the  hand  toward  him.  She  who  had 
sworn  that  he  should  come  to  her  feet  was  almost 
at  his. 

Yes,  she  forgot  completely,  but  he  did  not 
forget.  Men  are  of  commoner  fibre.  She  was 
of  finer  clay.  He  stood  immovable;  if  he  no 
ticed  these  little  inclinations  of  a  melting  mood, 
he  gave  no  sign.  Her  very  beauty  stirred  him 
into  hotter  resentment,  more  bitter  scorn,  fiercer 
rebellion.  She  was  suddenly  aware  of  all  the 
conditions,  and  with  a  faint  sinking  of  the  heart 
at  this  dashing  of  her  hopes  she  fell  back  in  her 
chair,  waiting  helplessly  and  fearfully  for  him 
to  begin.  He  did  not  seem  at  first  inclined  to 
speech,  but  she  forced  him  to  it  by  her  silence. 

[293] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"  There  is  something  that  must  be  talked  over 
between  us,"  said  the  man,  at  last. 

"  Yes." 

"We  are  nearing  home,"  —  he  bit  his  lip  at 
the  inadvertent  word  —  "I  mean  we  shall  soon 
be  off  Salem  harbor  if  we  have  no  bad  luck." 

"  Yes." 

"And  before  the  anchor  is  dropped  some  kind 
of  life  has  to  be  arranged  between  us." 

"  That  is  true." 

"  I  have  thought  it  all  over  for  a  long  time, 
for  every  moment  of  this  voyage,  and  naturally 
every  thought  has  been  a  deep  one.  We  have 
both  sinned,  each  against  the  other,  grievously, 
terribly."  He  went  on  steadily,  not  permitting 
her  to  speak  as  she  essayed  to  do  then,  and  pay 
ing  no  heed  to  her  protest.  "Which  has  done 
the  other  the  more  harm,  I  shall  not  attempt 
to  say;  I  have  my  own  opinion  about  it,  but  it 
will  be  of  little  use  to  discuss  it  with  you.  I 
don't  know  what  your  feelings  are  toward  me 
now,  I  only  know  what  mine  are  to  you." 

"  I  suppose,"  said  the  woman  slowly,  her  life 
almost  at  the  touch,  "  that  thinking  what  you  do 
naturally  you  hate  me,  perhaps  you  despise  me." 

[294] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"  I  don't  hate  you,"  returned  Captain  Stephen 
Cleveland  shortly.  "I  don't  despise  you,  God 
help  me,  I  even  believe  that  I  love  you  still." 

How  Julia  Cleveland's  soul  leaped  to  those 
words!  There  could  be  no  doubt  of  their  sin 
cerity  now.  She  waited  breathlessly  for  him  to 
speak  further.  He  was  choosing  his  words  de 
liberately  and  speaking  slowly  as  a  man  under 
iron  constraint  might. 

"I  have  explained,"  he  said,  "so  far  as  I 
could,  why  and  how  I  fell.  I  can  see  no  com 
parison  between  the  temptation  upon  you  and 
that  upon  me;  and  you  were  a  woman  and  I  a 
man,  which  makes  all  the  difference  in  the 
world." 

She  started  as  if  to  resent  this  repetition  of 
the  argument  she  had  heard  so  many  times,  but 
he  checked  her  with  a  little  motion  of  the  hand. 

'  You  could  not  have  done  what  you  did,"  — 
he  clenched  his  teeth  and  ground  out  these  words 
in  spite  of  his  effort  at  control;  he  could  not 
retain  his  studied  calmness,  try  as  he  would,  — 
"  if  you  had  n't  loved  Ellison  —  how  I  hate  to 
pronounce  his  name,  even!  I  have  figured  it 
all  out.  I  want  to  be  fair.  You  were  sure 
[295] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

that  I  was  dead  when  you  made  all  that  money, 
but  you  bought  this  ship  and  came  to  see  if 
you  could  establish  the  fact  of  my  death,  so 
that  you  might  go  back  and  marry  your  — 
marry  him.  You  always  were  a  conscientious 
woman." 

Was  there  a  sneer  in  that  last  phrase,  she 
wondered,  but  he  gave  her  no  time  for  con 
sidering  the  point. 

"Having  found  me,  and  being  thus  far  dis 
appointed  in  your  hopes,  you  cannot  marry 
Ellison  or  continue  your — your  association  with 
him,  unless  I  die  or  you  get  a  divorce.  Un 
fortunately  for  you,  I  have  no  present  intention 
of  dying,  and  I  assure  you  that,  so  far  as  I 
am  concerned  at  least,  I  will  be  no  party  to 
a  divorce.  Indeed,  I  will  fight  it  to  the  bitter 
end." 

His  lips  shut  into  a  thin  line  as  he  spoke.  She 
watched  him,  wondering,  yet  glad.  She  could 
not  quite  see  what  was  expected  of  her,  and  so 
she  waited,  her  heart  throbbing  like  mad. 

"You  will  still  bear  my  name,  as  you  will 
still  be  my  wife,"  he  continued  a  little  more 
calmly.  "My  first  business  in  life  will  be  to 

[296] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

seek  Ellison  and  settle  with  him;  when  I  have 
done  that  I  shall  get  a  ship  somewhere,  and 
you  will  see  as  little  of  me  as  possible  until  — " 

"And  you  won't  forgive  me,  though  I  for 
give  you  freely? "  interrupted  the  woman. 

"I  am  very  thankful  for  your  forgiveness. 
Doubtless  I  deserve  the  forgiveness  of  a  good 
woman,  or  even  of  a  bad  one,  as  little  as  any 
man  on  earth,  yet  I  am  grateful  for  it,  and  am 
very  glad  to  have  it." 

"Yet  you  won't  forgive  me?" 

"  Certainly  not." 

"  And  why  not? " 

"It's  different." 

"  I  can't  see  it." 

"That  doesn't  alter  the  fact." 

"In  the  eyes  of  God  —  " 

"I  am  looking  at  this  as  a  man." 

"Stephen,"  said  the  woman,  "it  isn't  true." 

She  looked  him  squarely  in  the  face  as  she 
spoke ;  her  gaze  was  pathetic,  appealing,  wistfully 
hopeful. 

"What  isn't  true?"  he  asked  unsteadily. 

"What  you  think." 

"You  admitted  —  " 

[897] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"I  did  not  —  "  she  stopped.  "I  didn't  do 
what  you  think  I  did,"  she  added  earnestly. 

"Impossible!"  he  exclaimed. 

"  I  swear  it,"  she  protested.  "  I  am  innocent 
of  any  wrong,  either  in  desire,  intention,  or  deed. 
I've  always  been  true  to  you,  absolutely,  en 
tirely.  I  never  have  done,  I  never  can  do  —  " 

Stephen  Cleveland  laughed  contemptuously. 
It  was  quite  evident  that  he  placed  not  the  least 
dependence  upon  her  statement.  Strange  that 
he  had  not  hesitated  to  accept  her  tacit  admis 
sion  that  she  was  guilty  of  the  gravest  crime, 
but  that  she  could  not  convince  him  of  her  inno 
cence  upon  oath.  That  laugh  killed  Julia  Cleve 
land's  hope.  She  realized  that  her  effort,  then 
at  least,  would  be  quite  useless ;  but  she  persisted 
nevertheless. 

"That's  a  pretty  story  to  tell  me  now,"  said 
her  husband.  "Doubtless  you  are  ashamed  of 
it.  Perhaps  he  has  cast  you  off,  and  now  you 
are  bound  to  make  the  best  of  a  bad  bargain 
with  me." 

"Stephen,  as  God  is  my  judge  — " 

"  I  am  your  judge  now,  and  I  don't  believe 

you." 

[  298  ] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"But  Foresman  will  swear." 

"  He  would  swear  black  was  white  if  you 
asked  him  to." 

"Is  there  nothing  that  can  convince  you?" 

"Ellison  might — if  I  give  him  a  chance." 

;'You  don't  understand.  I  told  you  — "  be 
gan  the  woman  passionately,  desperately  refus 
ing  to  give  up  the  vanishing  hope. 

"Don't  speak  further  to  me  about  it,"  he 
interrupted  harshly. 

"Oh,  won't  you  please  just  hear  me?" 

"No.  Good  God!  woman,  can't  you  see  that 
you  are  killing  me?" 

"I  want  to  cure  you,  I  — " 

"  Be  silent,"  he  cried.  "  I  would  not  believe 
you  on  your  oath.  Don't  try  to  lie  out  of  it 
now.  Stick  to  the  truth.  I  did." 

"But,  Stephen  —  " 

"  I  am  not  going  to  discuss  that  any  more,  but 
to  arrange  our  future  —  our  happy  future." 

'You  don't  have  to  work  if  you  don't  wish 
to,"  said  the  wife,  gently,  but  with  quivering 
lips.  '  You  know  I  am  a  very  rich  woman  now 
through  that  mine,  and  of  course  all  that  I  have 
is  yours." 

[299] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"I  would  rather  starve  than  touch  a  penny 
of  yours.  You  got  it  through  him." 

"  I  got  it  by  my  own  efforts,  I  am  fairly  en 
titled  to  it,  whatever  may  have  been  our  rela 
tions,  and  —  " 

"And  you  can  keep  it;  God  forbid  that  I 
should  ever  touch  a  penny  of  it.  I  can  support 
myself,  and  I  can  support  you.  I  suppose  that 
it  won't  be  pleasant  for  you  to  live  in  Salem 
while  I  am  away;  if  you  prefer,  you  can  try 
Boston  or  New  York  or  —  " 

"  I  will  live  wherever  and  however  you  say, 
Stephen,"  she  said  quietly. 

She  had  not  quite  given  up  everything,  but 
she  saw  that  any  further  attempts  at  establish 
ing  the  truth  would  be  useless  now.  She  would 
wait  her  opportunity  and  try  again.  That 
opportunity  must  come. 

"  New  York,  then,"  said  the  man,  shortly. 

"And  can  you  trust  me  there  alone?" 

"  I  think  so,"  returned  her  husband.  "  I  don't 
think  you  ever  lied  to  me,  or  ever  could,"  he 
went  on,  "although  you  did  foolishly  try  it  a 
moment  since." 

O  blind  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland,  whence 
[300] 


got  you  this  expert  knowledge  of  the  delicate 
art  of  reading  a  woman's  mind?  And  how 
grotesquely  did  you  sort  out  truth  and  falsehood 
in  the  sad  jumble  of  events  on  that  ship  I 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Julia  Cleveland  gently. 
"I  give  you  my  word  of  honor,  if  it  is  worth 
anything  to  you,  that  I  shall  live  where  you  wish 
and  as  you  wish." 

'  You  may  live  as  you  please  in  New  York, 
provided  you  bring  no  discredit  upon  me." 

"And  you  may  be  sure  that  I  shall  never  do 
that." 

"  Not  again,"  he  said  bitterly. 

"May  I  ask  your  plans,  Stephen?"  she  asked 
in  turn,  wincing  under  the  thrust. 

"First  of  all  I  shall  find  Ellison  and  make 
him  pay  for  what  he  has  caused  me  to  suffer." 

"And  who  is  to  pay,"  cried  the  woman,  sud 
denly,  "  for  what  I  am  suffering?  " 

"  One  did  pay  her  share  back  on  that  island," 
he  returned.  "And  I  am  paying  too.  Good 
God!  do  you  think  I  don't  suffer?  I  don't  know 
where  any  other  hell  may  be,  but  there  is  one 
here.  It  does  n't  make  any  difference  into  what 
mire  I  sank,  what  I  did,  where  I  went,  what 

[301  ] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

crimes  I  committed,  how  disloyal  I  might  have 
been  in  deed,  if  not  in  thought,  I  looked  for 
truth  in  you,  I  trusted  you  as  I  trusted  God, 
when  I  believed  in  Him  in  days  before  these 
awful  occurrences.  I  look  at  you  now  and  think 
what  you  were  to  me,  what  you  might  be  to  me, 
—  I  can  scarcely  bear  it.  Do  you  understand? " 


[302] 


CHAPTER  XXII 

HOW    THE    WORLD    MOVED    ON,    AND    WHAT    HAP 
PENED  WHILE  THEY  WERE  HOMEWARD  BOUND 

WHAT  she  might  have  answered  is  not  to 
be  known,  for  that  moment  the  deep 
boom  of  a  heavy  gun  reverberated  over  the 
water.  Evidently  it  came  from  some  vessel 
close  at  hand,  since  they  had  no  artillery  of  that 
kind  aboard.  As  they  listened,  naturally 
startled  by  such  an  occurrence,  the  men  on  the 
decks  above  them  awoke  into  life  and  action. 
Sudden  calls  came  from  the  officer  of  the  watch. 
There  were  sounds  of  hurried  feet  running  over 
head,  falls  of  rope  were  cast  down  upon  the 
deck,  voices  broke  into  a  rude  "chantey,"  block 
and  tackle  creaked,  the  groaning  of  ponderous 
yards  swayed  about  was  heard. 

Now  these  sounds  were,  above  all  things,  those 
designed  to  arouse  the  interest  of  a  sailor.  But 
it  is  evidence  of  his  serious  and  intense  preoccu 
pation  that  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  paid 

[303] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

absolutely  no  attention  to  them  after  the  first 
start  of  surprise.  He  did  not  greatly  care  what 
happened  on  deck,  or  even  what  became  of  the 
ship,  so  long  as  he  could  discuss  with  his  wife 
the  great  problems  they  were  confronting.  The 
woman  then  and  ever  was  the  supreme  object  of 
his  attention. 

But  Julia  Cleveland,  although  she  was  get 
ting  a  wild  fierce  joy  from  his  passionate  pro 
testations,  rather  welcomed  the  interruption. 
The  conversation,  so  far  as  she  was  concerned, 
had  already  reached  an  impasse.  And  she  felt 
that  she  could  not  possibly  stand  anything  more. 
It  was  all  so  hopeless.  The  situation  had  become 
so  involved  that  she  could  see  no  way  out  of  it. 
She  wanted  time;  even  though  it  was  not  at  all 
clear  that  all  the  time  in  the  world  would  make 
any  difference,  yet  she  craved  it,  as  the  con 
demned  criminal  longs  for  a  stay  of  execution, 
if  only  for  an  hour.  She  rose  to  her  feet 
therefore. 

"  Something  has  happened,"  she  said. 

"Nothing  on  earth  can  happen,"  urged  her 
husband,  "that  is  more  important  to  us  than 
this  conversation." 

[304] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"  I  must  see  what  is  the  matter." 

"Don't  go,"  he  protested;  "we  can  find  out 
presently.  Let  us  settle  our  affairs  now  and 
avoid  the  necessity  of  recurring  to  them  again." 

'  You  can  settle  them  yourself,"  she  replied 
wearily,  not  unkindly,  stepping  toward  the  for 
ward  bulkhead  of  the  little  cabin  as  she  spoke. 

"  Not  without  you,"  he  protested. 

'  You  have  already  done  so,  and  I  agree  to 
everything  or  anything  you  decide.  You  don't, 
you  can't,  believe  me.  Well  —  I — there  is  noth 
ing  more  to  be  said." 

"  There  are  still  matters  that  require  attention 
and  —  " 

But  she  brushed  by  him  without  giving  him  a 
chance  to  finish,  and  opened  the  door  and  went 
out  on  deck,  where  after  a  moment's  hesitation 
he  reluctantly  followed  her.  The  ship  had  been 
hove  to  while  they  lingered  in  the  cabin,  and 
now  lay  motionless,  her  main  yards  aback,  save 
as  she  was  gently  rocked  to  and  fro  by  the  heavy 
ground  swells.  A  short  distance  away  to  star 
board  and  coming  up  fast,  they  saw  a  splendid 
steam  frigate,  flying  the  flag  of  the  United 
States. 

[305] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

;'  What  has  happened? "  asked  Julia  Cleve 
land  of  Captain  Crowninshield,  who  had  just 
ascended  to  the  poop-deck,  whither  she  followed 
him,  her  husband  going  forward  to  the  starboard 
gangway. 

'  Yon  ship  has  fired  a  shot  across  our  fore 
foot  to  bring  us  to,  and  they  are  putting  a  boat 
overboard.  She's  an  American  man-o'-war, 
ma'am.  Evidently  they  want  to  speak  to  us," 
replied  the  captain. 

The  steamer  had  rounded  to  as  Captain 
Crowninshield  spoke;  and  as  they  watched  her, 
one  of  her  quarter-boats,  a  twelve-oared  cutter 
full  manned,  was  dropped  overboard  and  was 
rowed  rapidly  alongside  the  ship.  A  young 
officer  mounted  the  battens  and  stepped  through 
the  gangway  to  the  deck.  Captain  Crownin 
shield  descended  to  the  quarterdeck  to  meet 
him,  and  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  also  drew 
near. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  this  summons, 
sir?"  asked  Captain  Crowninshield  rather  per 
emptorily,  it  must  be  admitted,  as  the  officer 
stopped  and  saluted  him. 

"  Sir,  I  am  Lieutenant  Wingate  of  the  United 
[306] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

States  Steam  Frigate  Roanoke,  Captain  Henry 
Van  Brunt.  We  have  orders  to  intercept  all 
vessels,"  returned  the  officer  briefly.  Then  he 
caught  sight  of  Julia  Cleveland.  Off  came  his 
cap  instantly,  and  he  concluded  his  remarks  in 
a  much  gentler  voice  and  with  a  more  polite 
bearing.  "In  times  of  war,  you  know,  every 
vessel  upon  the  high  seas  is  subject  to  stoppage 
and  examination,  or  search  if  necessary;  your 
papers,  please,  Captain." 

"  In  time  of  war?"  exclaimed  Captain  Crown- 
inshield,  in  great  surprise.  '  What  war,  who  is 
at  war?" 

"Where  have  you  been  and  where  have  you 
come  from? "  asked  the  lieutenant  in  equal 
surprise. 

"  From  the  South  Seas  on  a  trading  voyage. 
We  cleared  from  San  Francisco  sixteen  months 
ago." 

"  And  you  have  heard  nothing  from  the  United 
States  since  then?" 

"  Not  a  thing." 

"Abraham  Lincoln  of  Illinois  was  elected 
President  by  the  Republican  party  last  year, 
and  inaugurated  this  Spring.  The  Southern 
[307] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

States  seceded  from  the  Union,  led  by  South 
Carolina,  last  December.  They  are  in  arms 
against  the  United  States.  The  first  gun  was 
fired  at  Fort  Sumter  a  few  months  ago.  Battles 
have  been  fought,  and  the  advantage  has  not 
been  altogether  with  us.  The  Federal  Govern 
ment  is  determined  to  put  down  the  rebellion 
by  force.  The  sea  coast  is  in  a  state  of 
blockade.  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  know 
nothing  about  it?" 

"  Not  one  word,"  said  Captain  Crowninshield, 
greatly  astonished. 

"  Have  you  not  spoken  any  ships  with  the 
news?" 

"  Not  one  but  was  as  ignorant  as  ourselves." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  interposed  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland,  "but  do  you  happen  to 
know  anything  of  a  California  mine  owner 
named  Ellison,  a  Southerner?" 

It  seemed  to  him  an  impossible  and  an  absurd 
question  upon  the  face  of  it.  Only  his  eagerness 
made  him  ask  it  on  the  bare  chance  that  he 
might  get  an  answer;  and  strangely  enough,  he 
did.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  the  Cleve 
land-Ellison  Mine  was  almost  as  famous  as  the 

[308] 


Comstock  Lode,  and  the  principal  owner  and 
manager  was  much  in  the  public  eye,  especially 
as  he  bade  fair  to  be  one  of  the  richest  men  in 
America.  Another  thing  that  made  Ellison  and 
the  mine  famous  was  Mrs.  Cleveland's  connec 
tion  with  it.  Her  story  and  her  search  for  her 
husband  had  become  public  property  and  had 
been  exploited  in  the  papers.  But  that  was  over 
a  year  and  a  half  ago,  and  was  nearly  forgot 
ten  by  this  time  in  the  excitement  of  greater 
events. 

"  I  don't  know  Colonel  Ellison  personally,"  an 
swered  the  young  lieutenant,  politely  and  in  some 
wonder  and  surprise,  "but  he  happens  to  have 
come  prominently  before  the  public  eye  recently. 
Everybody  knows  about  him  and  his  mine 
through  the  newspapers.  When  the  war  broke 
out,  he  sold  his  share  in  the  great  Cleveland- 
Ellison  Mine  in  California  at  a  considerable 
sacrifice  and  placed  the  proceeds  at  the  disposal 
of  the  Confederate  Government,  so  called.  The 
papers  were  full  of  it  before  we  left  New  York. 
He  has  been  given  the  command  of  a  Southern 
regiment,  I  believe." 

"  Sold  his  share  of  the  mine? "  exclaimed  Julia. 
[309] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"So  the  papers  say;  but  may  I  ask  what 
interest  —  " 

"I  am  Mrs.  Cleveland,  part  owner  of  — " 

"Mrs.  Cleveland!"  interrupted  the  officer, 
eagerly.  "  I  remember  now ;  you  went  to  seek 
for  your  husband.  Did  you  succeed  ?  Is  this  —  " 

"  I  am  Captain  Cleveland,"  answered  her  hus 
band,  quick  to  interpose  and  save  her  any  em 
barrassment  in  the  situation. 

"Hurrah!"  cried  the  young  lieutenant  smil 
ing  broadly.  "That's  the  finest  thing  I  ever 
heard.  Madam,  I  congratulate  you  on  your 
success;  and  you,  sir,  on  such  a  wife.  By  Jove, 
you  must  be  a  happy  pair,"  he  added,  frankly. 
"I  wish  I  could  stay  to  hear  your  story.  But, 
Captain,  your  papers,  please.  I  have  no  doubt 
that  a  moment's  inspection  will  enable  me  to 
give  you  permission  to  continue  your  voyage." 

"This  way,  sir,"  said  Captain  Crowninshield, 
turning  aft  and  descending  the  companion-way 
to  his  cabin,  where  the  young  officer  followed. 
He  looked  up  with  the  frank  admiration  of  a 
sailor  at  Julia  Cleveland  standing  at  the  break 
of  the  poop-deck  above  him  as  he  passed.  She 
turned,  walked  aft,  the  mockery  of  the  officer's 

[310] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

congratulations  rankling,  and  stood  staring  at 
the  beautiful  Roanoke,  but  her  thoughts  were 
not  on  the  war-ship. 

After  a  momentary  hesitation  her  husband 
mounted  the  ladder  to  the  poop-deck  and 
followed  her  aft. 

"  You  can  not  seek  him  now,"  she  said,  as 
he  drew  near.  "  That  part  of  your  plan  will 
have  to  be  given  up." 

"Can  I  not?"  was  the  grim  reply.  "I  will 
seek  him  through  the  whole  Southern  army.  I 
will  ask  a  United  States  commission  for  myself." 

"As  a  sailor?" 

"  As  a  soldier.  I  shall  meet  him  on  equal  terms, 
and  I  have  no  doubt  that  God  will  give  him  into 
my  hands." 

Julia  Cleveland  was  not  so  sure  of  that,  but 
there  was  nothing  that  she  could  say.  She  had 
known  that  there  must  be  a  parting,  and  that  it 
would  be  soon  after  they  arrived,  but  now  that 
it  was  so  very  near  and  so  very  intolerable  she 
could  not  bear  it.  War,  battle,  murder,  sudden 
death  —  she  could  not  face  them.  Her  eyes  filled 
with  tears.  Regardless  of  who  might  be  look 
ing,  she  said  softly, 

[311] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"O  Stephen,  can't  you  —  " 

"  No,"  said  the  man. 

"Won't  you  believe  me,  when  I  — " 

"I  believe  nothing  from  you;  if  it  be  a  repe 
tition  of  what  you  tried  to  say  below  in  the  cabin 
this  afternoon,  you  might  as  well  spare  yourself 
the  trouble." 

"And  won't  you  stay  with  me,"  she  faltered, 
"and  let  me  show  you  that  I  do  truly  —  care?" 

"  I  can  not  believe  it,"  was  the  reply. 

"Will  nothing  convince  you?" 

"  Nothing  that  you  can  say  or  do.    I  will  have 

"  I  can  not  believe  it,"  was  the  reply. 
God,  he  is  on  the  other  side;  it  gives  me  some 
excuse,  —  not  that  I  needed  any !  " 


[312] 


BOOK  VI 
FIGHTING  WITHIN,  WITHOUT 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

SHOWING  WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  THE  END  OF  THE 
FOURTH    YEAR   OF   FIGHTING 

WITH  what  ease  and  complacency  does  the 
novelist  dismiss  with  a  sentence  or  two 
the  events  of  years!  How  lightly  does  he  pass 
by  the  tragic  happenings  of  the  long  days  and 
weeks  and  months!  How  calmly  oblivious  is  he 
to  the  occurrences,  grave  and  gay,  of  days  of 
bitter  conflict! 

Four  years  have  elapsed  since  Julia  Cleveland 
stood  on  the  street,  with  the  old  boatswain  by 
her  side,  and  watched  a  Massachusetts  regiment 
of  volunteers  march  to  the  railroad  station  en 
route  to  the  front.  In  those  four  years  had  been 
waged  the  longest,  the  costliest,  the  bloodiest, 
and  most  desperately  contested  war  in  modern 
history  —  and  all  for  an  idea,  too. 

The  regiment  went  forth  eleven  hundred 
strong,  but  in  that  great  throng  of  brave  and 
spirited  men  passing  by  amid  the  cheers  of 

[315] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

thousands,  Julia  Cleveland  had  eyes  for  but  one 
man,  her  husband,  where  he  marched  at  the 
head  of  a  company  —  rather  awkwardly,  for  it 
must  be  confessed  he  was  not  cut  out  for  a 
soldier,  and  the  habit  of  the  sea  yet  clung  to 
him.  He  had  enjoyed  sufficient  influence  to  get 
a  commission  as  the  captain  of  a  company, 
recruited  mainly  among  Salem  people,  who 
had  welcomed  him  as  one  returned  from  the 
dead. 

He  had  been  known  in  days  gone  by  as  a 
genial,  joyous,  humorous,  happy-hearted  man. 
The  difference  in  his  bearing  was  noticed,  but 
it  was  set  down  to  the  strange  experiences 
through  which  he  had  passed.  The  details  of 
these  experiences  were  of  course  unknown,  but 
enough  of  the  general  story  was  current  to 
account  for  things  otherwise  unaccountable  in 
Salem.  In  New  York,  it  would  not  matter  to 
any  one  who  or  what  Julia  Cleveland  was,  or 
where  she  came  from,  or  what  she  did. 

The  same  qualities  of  leadership,  the  same 
thorough  determination  to  master  the  details  of 
this  new  profession,  soon  manifested  themselves 
in  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland,  and  this  sailor 

[316] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

turned  soldier  fast  won  the  confidence  of  his  men 
and  the  approval  of  his  superiors. 

He  had  little  opportunity  for  independent 
action  in  the  first  years  of  the  war;  but  as  death 
depleted  the  higher  ranks  he  advanced  in  posi 
tion,  until  he  now  wore  on  the  shoulder-strap  of 
his  faded  blouse,  the  single  star  of  a  brigadier- 
general.  He  had  made  a  name  for  himself  in 
the  army,  for  resourcefulness,  for  ability  to 
think  quickly  in  an  emergency,  to  decide  in 
stantly  in  the  crucial  moment  upon  the  right 
course. 

All  this  was  natural  enough,  if  one  stopped 
to  consider  it.  As  a  sailor,  many  times  the  safety 
of  his  ship,  his  own  salvation,  and  that  of  his 
men  had  absolutely  turned  upon  a  decision  which 
had  to  be  made  instantly  and  without  reflection  — 
by  instinct,  as  it  were.  Knowing  thoroughly  the 
laws  that  govern  a  ship  in  the  sea,  again  and 
again,  without  a  moment's  hesitation,  he  had 
extricated  himself  and  the  vessel  he  commanded 
from  dangerous  predicaments,  by  doing  the 
right  thing  and  the  only  thing,  at  the  right  time 
and  the  only  time. 

No  man  ever  made  a  good  sailor  who  did  not 
[317] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

have  this  peculiar  quality,  or  habit  of  mind,  or 
faculty  of  judgment,  developed  to  the  last 
limit;  and  many  a  potential  soldier  who  could 
lay  great  plans  has  been  ruined  at  the  point  of 
contact  with  the  enemy,  for  lack  of  just  such  a 
power  of  instant  and  correct  determination. 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  —  how  familiarly 
we  linger  over  the  old  name  and  title  now  to  be 
changed  to  "  General "  —  was  not  a  great 
strategist.  Perhaps  in  a  large  sense  he  could 
not  be  called  a  brilliant  tactician;  but  when  in 
contact  with  the  enemy,  he  instinctively  and  al 
most  invariably  chose  the  right  course  —  a  rare 
quality  indeed. 

He  was  a  valuable  man  for  a  greater  com 
mander  to  have  at  hand,  especially  as  he  was 
one  of  the  hardest  and  most  desperate  fighters 
in  either  army.  No  man  would  more  recklessly 
expose  himself  to  every  danger  in  the  imminent 
deadly  breach  than  he.  Grim,  dark,  taciturn, 
reserved,  moody,  melancholy,  he  seemed  to  awake 
to  joy  only  in  the  heat  of  battle.  If  any  des 
perate  venture  was  planned,  in  which  a  com 
mand  would  be  certain  to  be  involved  in  grave 
difficulties,  placed  in  critical  situations,  and 
[318] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

forced  into  hard  fighting,  he  was  the  man 
chosen  by  that  widening  circle  of  higher  authori 
ties  which  grew  more  and  more  aware  of  his 
unusual  qualities. 

He  made  no  personal  friendships,  his  manner 
to  high  and  low  alike  being  absolutely  cold  and 
passionless,  but  somehow  this  grim  and  silent 
soldier  was  a  tremendous  inspiration  to  his  men. 
One  reason  why  he  could  do  the  things  he  did 
was  that  he  could  win  and  hold  the  confidence 
and  devotion  of  his  subordinates  to  an  extraor 
dinary  degree.  It  was  these  qualities,  which  of 
their  own  merit  gradually  became  widely  known, 
that  at  the  reorganization  of  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac,  after  Grant  summoned  Sheridan  to 
command  the  cavalry,  caused  Stephen  Cleveland 
to  be  gazetted  to  the  leadership  of  one  of  Ouster's 
cavalry  brigades. 

He  was  very  sorry  to  give  up  the  colonelcy 
of  the  Massachusetts  infantry  regiment,  whose 
numbers  had  been  twice  or  thrice  replenished 
during  the  war,  and  with  which  he  had  made 
such  a  name  for  himself,  but  he  was  glad,  over 
whelmingly,  for  the  promotion  and  the  change 
which  brought  his  cherished  desire  a  little  nearer, 
[319] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

a  little  more  possible  of  realization;  for  Ellison 
too  was  in  the  cavalry. 

Stephen  Cleveland  was  as  patriotic  a  man  as 
ever  lived.  Five  years  upon  an  island  without 
a  flag  had  made  him  love  the  ensign  of  the 
United  States  and  that  for  which  it  stood,  as 
few  men  before  or  since  have  loved  it.  In  any 
event  he  would  have  fought  for  the  maintenance 
of  the  integrity  of  the  country;  probably,  under 
other  circumstances  at  sea;  but  it  is  idle  to  deny 
the  tremendous  influence  upon  his  conduct  and 
career  to  be  found  in  his  passionate  desire  to  meet 
Ellison. 

A  dozen  times  fate  had  apparently  conspired 
to  place  the  coveted  opportunity  in  his  hand, 
only  to  whisk  it  away.  He  had  stood  with  others 
at  bay  at  Gettysburg  and  had  watched  the  mag 
nificent  advance  of  Pickett's  men,  and  he  thought 
that  he  saw  among  the  general  officers  breasting 
the  slope  on  that  day,  the  form  of  the  man  he 
hated.  So  certain  was  he  that  he  snatched  a 
rifle  from  the  nearest  soldier  and  drew  a  bead 
upon  the  officer's  heart  as  he  came  surging 
through  the  smoke  amid  the  fast-withering  line 
of  heroes  on  that  fatal  field.  But  he  threw  aside 

[320] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

the  weapon  ere  he  had  pulled  the  trigger.  He 
could  not  be  sure  that  the  officer  was  he;  and  if 
it  was,  he  did  not  want  to  kill  him  in  that  way. 
He  wanted  to  have  speech  with  him  before  he 
died.  And  he  wanted  him  to  know  whose  hand 
dealt  death  to  him. 

From  time  to  time  he  had  heard  something 
about  Ellison,  who  like  himself  had  gone  into 
the  cavalry  and  later  had  become  one  of  Stuart's 
trusted  lieutenants.  After  the  death  of  that 
great  leader  he  had  served  under  that  other 
beau  sdbreur,  Fitzhugh  Lee.  Stephen  Cleveland, 
in  command  of  the  van  brigade,  had  pressed  into 
the  very  thickest  of  the  fighting  in  the  cavalry 
battle  at  Yellow  Tavern,  in  the  hope  of  getting 
near  to  his  enemy ;  but  fortune  had  not  been  kind 
to  him  on  that  day. 

That  war  was  fought  on  a  gigantic  field :  these 
two,  one  conscious,  the  other  unconscious  of  an 
antagonism,  to  put  it  mildly,  had  never  yet  come 
in  touch.  Fortune  had  been  kind  otherwise  to 
both  of  them;  that  is,  from  the  common  view 
point  of  kindness  to  the  soldier,  in  that  neither 
of  them  had  been  wounded.  Men  had  fallen 
by  their  sides,  bullets  had  ripped  through  their 
[321] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

clothing,  horses  had  been  killed  beneath  them, 
but  not  a  hair  of  the  head  of  either  had  been 
touched  by  hostile  lead  or  steel. 

The  war  was  almost  over.  The  hand  of 
Grant  was  tightening  upon  the  throat  of  Lee. 
It  was  evident  to  all  men  that  the  end  was  at 
hand.  Stephen  Cleveland  was  convinced  of  that, 
with  other  soldiers.  He  had  almost  despaired 
of  meeting  his  enemy  face  to  face  in  battle;  he 
had  made  up  his  mind  that  when  peace  ensued, 
he  would  follow  him  and  hunt  him  down.  It 
did  not  occur  to  him  that  the  moment  the  field 
grew  narrowest,  the  greatest  was  his  chance  of 
encountering  therein  any  given  man. 

Fortune  sometimes  withholds  her  favors 
through  long  periods,  suddenly  to  pour  them  out 
with  a  lavish  hand.  On  the  first  of  April,  1865, 
about  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  a  day  which 
was  cloudy,  rainy,  and  gloomy,  a  brigade  of 
cavalry  was  slowly  forcing  its  way  through  trees 
and  underbrush  toward  an  enemy  supposed  to  be 
intrenched  half  a  mile  beyond.  It  was  very 
still  and  quiet  in  the  woods  that  spring  after 
noon,  but  every  soul  of  the  two  thousand  in  that 
brigade  was  keenly  upon  the  alert,  every  ear  was 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

tuned  to  discover  other  sound  than  that  of  the 
crashing  of  the  horses  through  the  tangled 
thickets,  the  jingling  of  bits,  the  clank  of  sabres. 
Even  the  usually  sharp  words  of  command  were 
properly  subdued. 

At  the  head  and  slightly  to  the  right  of  this 
brigade  rode  the  commander,  Stephen  Cleveland, 
followed  by  his  slender  staff.  He  was  not  a  good 
rider  from  the  point  of  view  of  noble  horse 
manship;  he  was  still  too  much  of  a  sailor  to 
witch  the  world  with  that,  and  always  would  be, 
but  he  was  a  good  enough  rider,  albeit  he  lacked 
in  grace  and  brilliancy,  for  the  horse  he  bestrode 
to  know  that  a  master  was  on  his  back. 

As  he  might  have  done  on  a  mid- watch  in  a 
murky  sea,  Stephen  Cleveland  was  peering 
fiercely  ahead,  his  every  nerve  strained  to  meet 
the  responsibility  that  each  step  his  horse  took 
brought  nearer  to  him.  He  and  his  eager  men 
were  ready. 

The  enemy,  under  one  of  the  most  redoubtable 
fighters  of  the  Confederacy,  Lieutenant-General 
George  Edward  Pickett,  was  strongly  in 
trenched  at  a  place  where  five  country  roads  ran 
together.  Lee,  battling  for  life  in  Petersburg, 
[323] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

had  sent  his  best  subordinate  to  hold  Five  Forks 
—  so  the  place  was  called  —  to  secure  the  retreat 
which  he  realized  was  highly  necessary  now  and 
would  soon  become  inevitable.  He  had  given 
him  the  best  troops  in  infantry  and  cavalry  he 
could  spare  from  the  naked,  worn,  wasted,  tired, 
hungry,  but  heroic  Army  of  Northern  Virginia 
that  he  so  gloriously  commanded.  Among  these 
detachments  was  Ellison's  brigade  of  Fitzhugh 
Lee's  cavalry  division. 

Against  the  seven  or  eight  thousand  Confed 
erates  at  bay  behind  their  intrenchments  at  Five 
Forks,  General  Sheridan,  to  whom  the  attack 
was  committed  by  General  Grant,  was  bringing 
three  times  their  number.  It  would  not  be  an 
easy  matter  to  drive  those  desperate  men  out  of 
their  fortifications  by  direct  attack.  General 
Sheridan  had  enough  men  to  enable  him  to  put 
into  operation  other  plans.  He  extended  a  part 
of  his  cavalry  force  to  make  a  heavy  demonstra 
tion  along  the  whole  front  of  Pickett's  line,  while 
another  detachment  was  ordered  to  make  a  cir 
cuit,  and  if  possible  to  get  in  rear  of  the  refused 
left  flank  of  the  Confederate  line.  With  the 
heavy  masses  of  the  Fifth  Corps  of  the  Army 

[324] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

of  the  Potomac  he  determined  to  attack  the 
enemy  at  a  refused  angle  of  his  works,  and  if 
possible  to  break  through  and  crush  the  left  of 
General  Pickett's  line. 

Meanwhile  Stephen  Cleveland's  brigade  was 
detached  from  Custer  and  ordered  to  demon 
strate  in  force,  pressing  home  an  attack  if  neces 
sary  and  possible  upon  the  extreme  right  of 
Pickett's  line,  which  was  known  to  be  covered 
by  some  of  the  Confederate  horse.  This  would 
keep  that  end  of  the  line  busy,  and  thus  every 
member  of  Pickett's  little  force  would  be  retained 
in  his  place  and  prevented  from  reinforcing  the 
heavily  assailed  left,  whose  position  would  be 
hopeless. 

It  was  as  brilliantly  planned  and  as  desper 
ately  fought  a  battle  as  the  four  years  had  pro 
duced.  It  all  happened  just  exactly  as  Sheridan 
had  arranged,  and  in  spite  of  the  proud  heroism 
of  the  thin  gray  line,  their  stubborn  defence  of 
their  works,  he  broke  the  line,  overwhelmed  the 
left,  and  nearly  half  of  them  were  killed,  wounded, 
or  captured,  while  the  balance  was  driven 
northward  in  disorganized  retreat.  That  avenue 
of  retreat  and  that  force  were  thereafter  lost  to 

[325] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

Lee.  The  constricting  circle  was  drawn  a  little 
tighter  around  the  great  captain  at  bay. 

Firing  for  half  an  hour  or  more  had  been 
heavy  and  continuous  off  to  the  far  right  of 
Stephen  Cleveland's  brigade.  If  he  was  to  play 
his  allotted  part,  it  behooved  him  to  get  into 
action  at  once.  How  long  the  conflict  would  last 
he  could  easily  imagine.  He  endeavored  to  hurry 
up  his  leading  regiment,  and  by  his  own  example 
inspired  the  men  to  press  forward. 

Peering  through  the  trees  he  saw  what  looked 
like  a  stretch  of  open  country.  After  advancing 
for  perhaps  five  minutes  longer,  the  brigade 
entered  a  broad  savannah;  its  arrival  was  signal 
ized  by  a  rifle-shot.  The  next  minute  from  out 
the  trees  on  the  other  side  debouched  a  brigade 
of  hard-bitten,  nondescript  horsemen,  the  officers 
in  rusty  gray,  above  them  the  tattered  guidons 
of  the  dying  Confederacy.  The  battle  was  about 
to  be  joined. 


[326] 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

WHEREIN   TWO  ENEMIES  AT  LAST  MEET  FACE  TO 
FACE  ON  THE  FIELD 

LIFE,  in  those  four  years,  had  been  one  long 
agony  to  Julia  Cleveland.  She  had  learned 
a  little  of  her  husband's  career  in  several  ways, 
but  chiefly  by  the  mention  of  his  name  in  orders 
and  reports  and  accounts  of  victories  and  defeats. 
He  had  written  her  not  one  solitary  word,  not 
a  line  had  come  from  him  in  all  those  years.  As 
had  been  agreed  between  them,  she  had  gone  to 
New  York  and  there  she  had  lived  the  life  of  a 
recluse  in  her  own  apartment  —  she  and  the  old 
boatswain  —  eating  her  heart  out,  praying,  long 
ing,  scarcely  hoping. 

Repentant  of  her  error,  of  the  fact  that  she 
had  really  thrown  her  husband  and  his  love  away, 
she  had  long  since  forgiven  him,  she  had  long 
since  forgiven  everybody  but  herself.  She  would 
have  been  willing  to  die  if  she  could  have  con 
vinced  him  of  her  truth,  and  if  he  could  have 

[327] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

taken  her  but  once  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her 
again  before  death  came. 

But  these  things  could  not  be;  she  could  only 
live  on  and  wait.  And  many  other  women  in 
that  and  all  other  wars  could  only  do  that  hard 
est  of  all  tasks  laid  upon  humanity  —  live  on  and 
wait.  The  Sanitary  Commission  afforded  her 
finally  a  field  for  her  talents  and  a  place  of  dis 
position  for  her  fortune,  and  in  the  end  saved 
her  reason  for  her. 

I  said  she  had  not  heard  from  her  husband; 
in  one  particular,  however,  she  had  evidence  that 
he  was  still  alive,  for  half  his  army  pay  was 
regularly  remitted  to  her  every  month  by  the 
War  Department.  He  had  made  this  allotment 
when  he  first  went  to  the  front  and  it  had  never 
been  changed.  Julia  Cleveland  possessed  means 
unlimited,  she  could  live  how  and  where  she 
would,  but  she  took  the  intensest  pride  in  living 
on  exactly  what  he  sent  her  and  nothing  more. 
Every  dollar  of  her  private  income  she  expended 
for  the  good  of  the  soldiers  and  for  the  help  of 
the  cause. 

This  meant  privation  at  first.  Only  the  most 
rigid  economy  permitted  her  to  live  at  all  on  the 

[328] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

small  pay;  but  as  her  husband  advanced  in  rank 
and  position  and  his  salary  increased  accordingly, 
she  had  plenty  for  the  boatswain  and  herself. 
The  boatswain  cared  little  for  riches;  he  was  a 
very  old  man,  he  had  broken  sadly  since  he 
landed  from  his  last  voyage,  and  loved  nothing  so 
much  now  as  his  comfortable  corner  by  the  fire 
and  his  pipe,  and  his  daily  "  tot  of  grog."  He 
loved  to  talk  to  the  young  woman,  to  whom  he 
was  so  devoted,  of  his  Salem  days  and  the  young 
life  of  her  husband  on  the  seas,  subjects  about 
which  she  loved  to  hear. 

Julia  Cleveland  grew  to  expect  that  monthly 
remittance  as  an  angel's  visit :  it  assured  her  that 
he  was  well  and  alive.  For  six  months  or  a  year 
neither  his  name  nor  his  command  might  be 
mentioned  in  the  despatches,  yet  she  knew  he 
was  alive  and  presumably  well  for  the  time 
being,  by  these  payments.  She  followed  the  re 
ported  movements  of  the  army,  and  with  heart 
breaking,  indescribable  emotions,  scanned  and 
studied  the  list  of  killed  and  wounded  after  every 
battle,  as  thousands  of  other  women  did,  thank 
ing  God  that  she  never  saw  his  name  there. 

After  long  thought  she  decided  to  write  to 
[329] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

him.  If  ever  there  was  a  repentant  woman  for 
having  allowed  her  husband  to  think  ill  of  her  for 
his  punishment,  it  was  Julia  Cleveland.  She  real 
ized  how  indefensible,  if  explainable,  had  been 
her  action,  how  mistaken  she  had  been  in  her 
course,  how  criminal  had  been  her  folly.  As  has 
been  noted,  she  forgave  her  husband  freely  and 
entirely,  and  —  though  it  cost  her  a  pang  to  do 
so  —  by  and  by  she  forgave  little  Felicity  back 
on  the  island.  Laus  Deo! 

Oh,  what  an  agony  of  self-reproach,  what  a 
passion  of  remorse,  she  went  through!  She 
would  have  given  all  her  life  for  one  word  from 
her  husband,  for  one  assurance  that  in  some  way 
she  had  convinced  him  that  she  was  true.  For 
a  moment  of  time  in  which  to  explain  to  him, 
so  that  he  could  see  and  believe  the  monstrous 
injustice  she  had  done  herself  in  her  desire  for 
revenge,  she  would  have  sacrificed  without  a  re 
gret  all  her  future  years.  She  went  through 
agonies  of  prayer  and  petition  for  forgiveness. 
But  forgiveness  by  God  does  not  necessarily  do 
away  with  the  consequence  of  action;  and  al 
though  there  was  some  comfort  in  the  assurance 
which  came  to  her  soul  that  she  had  the  pardon 

[830] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

of  the  Divine  Father,  it  was  little  enough  after 
all,  for  she  wanted  the  pardon  of  a  man.  And 
so  at  last  she  wrote  him. 

What  would  you  have  written  under  such  cir 
cumstances,  dear  reader? 

Julia  Cleveland  knew  her  husband  better  than 
you  or  I.  She  did  not  endeavor  to  exculpate 
herself,  she  did  not  even  try  to  explain  how  the 
present  dreadful  situation  had  arisen,  and  she 
did  not  say  that  she  forgave  him.  The  letter  was 
cold  enough  to  outward  seeming.  How  could  he 
know  that  she  wrote  it  with  pen  of  fire  which 
might  have  burned  the  paper  over  which  she 
leaned?  The  letter  only  told  him  something  of 
her  daily  life,  it  gave  him  news  of  old  Foresman, 
it  detailed  a  little  of  what  she  was  doing  for  the 
help  of  the  soldiers,  and  it  assured  him  she  was 
faithfully  carrying  out  his  wishes  as  she  under 
stood  them. 

No  answer  came;  she  did  not  expect  any.  If 
she  had  done  what  she  wished  she  would  have 
written  daily  and  poured  out  her  heart  to  him; 
indeed,  she  did  write  to  him  every  day,  but  she 
never  sent  the  letters.  Some  vague  idea  made  her 
keep  them,  however.  What  she  wrote  and  sent 

[331  ] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

to  him,  and  what  she  wrote  but  kept  at  home, 
were  entirely  different  propositions.  Maybe  he 
would  read  these  last  letters  some  day,  she  some 
times  hoped. 

After  a  while  she  wrote  again,  and  presently 
every  month  she  sent  him  a  similar  letter.  In  the 
second  year  of  the  war  she  enclosed  a  little  packet, 
such  as  a  man  could  carry  in  his  pocket;  it  was 
sewed  up  in  oilskin  for  protection  —  she  was  a 
sailor's  daughter  —  and  it  was  tied  and  sealed. 
The  outside  bore  this  legend: 

"For  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland:  To  be  opened  after 
my  death,  or  if  you  are  desperately  wounded  and  are  like 
to  die,  which  God  forbid,  to  be  opened  and  read  by  you 
or  to  you.  Your  wife,  Julia  Cleveland." 

Stephen  Cleveland  was  wearing  that  little 
packet  in  his  pocket,  the  breast  pocket  of  his  coat, 
as  he  rode  into  battle  in  the  graying  gloom  of  that 
rainy  afternoon.  Some  of  her  letters  had  gone 
astray,  lost  in  following  the  army  which  moved 
hither  and  thither;  but  most  of  them  he  had  re 
ceived.  He  was  hungry  for  those  letters,  albeit 
they  spoke  no  word  of  love  to  him.  They  were 
cold,  passionless,  restrained;  but  they  came  from 

[332] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

her.  He  knew  that  he  loved  her  more  than  ever, 
that  every  hour  he  was  away  from  her  his  love  for 
her  grew  and  deepened. 

Manlike,  he  often  thought  of  Felicity  —  but 
with  no  disloyalty  to  Julia  —  as  one  thinks  of  a 
strange  dream,  or  a  watch  in  a  night  when  it  has 
passed.  He  thought  of  Felicity  without  resent 
ment  too,  even  with  tenderness  —  she  had  given 
her  all  to  him  —  but  he  loved  his  wife  with  an  ever 
growing  passion.  Oh,  what  anguish  tore  his  heart 
as  he  pondered  upon  her  infidelity!  How  could 
such  things  have  happened?  He  had  a  just  man's 
appreciation  of  her  present  attitude.  He  could 
read  between  the  lines  of  her  letters  that  she  was 
doing  what  she  could  to  atone.  He  forgave  what 
he  believed  to  have  been  her  falsehood  in  trying 
to  deny  her  action,  but  he  could  not  yet  forgive 
the  unpardonable  sin  of  that,  as  he  imagined  it 
still. 

What  would  be  the  outcome  he  did  not  know; 
he  did  not  allow  himself  to  look  beyond  Ellison 
and  the  meeting  for  which  he  had  striven  with 
such  fixity  of  purpose  during  four  long  years. 
He  was  sure  that  he  could  never  forgive  her.  No, 
anything  but  that.  He  could  never  take  her  into 

[333] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

his  arms  again  without  remembering,  he  could 
never  press  a  kiss  upon  her  lips  without  conscious 
ness  of  what  he  believed,  although  he  longed  to 
do  both.  He  recognized  that  she  might  have  the 
same  feeling  toward  him,  and  justly;  yet  he  per 
sisted  that  there  was  a  difference,  and  whether 
there  was  or  not  mattered  little  to  him,  for  he 
thought  so  and  he  could  not  convince  himself 
otherwise. 

A  woman  could  forgive  those  things  in  a  man ; 
but  a  man  could  not  forgive  such  things  in  a 
woman,  at  least  he  could  not.  Yet,  how  he  loved 
her !  And  the  thought  of  this  great  gulf  that  in 
tervened  between  them  made  him  stand  as  it  were 
on  the  brink  and  stretch  his  hands  out  to  the  other 
side,  where  she  stood  in  like  manner.  He  yearned 
to  her  with  all  his  soul.  He  had  prayed  at  first 
that  he  might  not  be  killed  until  he  had  met  El 
lison,  but  lately  he  had  begun  to  wonder  if  it 
would  not  be  better  after  all  if  some  bullet  should 
have  a  billet  for  him.  Then  she  could  be  happy. 
Ellison  could  claim  her,  she  could  go  to  him  with 
out  shame.  Such  were  his  thoughts  sometimes, 
but  they  almost  killed  him ;  he  wanted  her,  but  he 
wanted  her  as  he  believed  she  could  never  be 

[334] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

again.  Strange  that  the  man  who  could  not  for 
give  his  wife  should  bring  himself  to  a  state  of 
willingness  to  die  for  her,  so  that  his  forgiveness 
might  not  be  necessary! 

He  would  not  have  been  human  if  he  had  not 
wondered  what  was  in  that  packet  she  sent  him. 
It  was  always  with  him;  he  hung  it  about  his 
neck  when  he  slept,  he  carried  it  over  his  heart 
when  he  was  awake,  where  he  could  feel  it  press 
ing  lightly  upon  his  breast. 

As  he  put  spurs  to  his  horse  and  led  his  com 
mand  in  that  wild  charge  upon  the  enemy,  he 
found  himself  thinking  about  it  in  those  few 
moments  before  the  battle  was  joined.  What 
words  had  she  written  to  him  that  he  must  read 
after  she  was  dead,  or  that  he  must  look  upon 
before  he  died  if  he  were  wounded  unto  death  ? 

He  galloped  for  a  moment  as  one  in  a  dream, 
and  then  awoke  to  a  realization  with  sharp  and 
sudden  shock,  almost  as  if  he  had  been  stricken, 
for  at  the  head  of  the  men  before  him,  his  sabre 
lifted  high,  the  plume  of  his  hat  floating  back 
ward  in  the  wind  of  the  swift  onrush,  rode  Elli 
son,  the  man  whom  he  had  sought  for  four  years 
and  was  only  now  about  to  meet. 

[335] 


CHAPTER  XXV 

WHEREIN    STEPHEN    CLEVELAND   ALSO  FINDS   OUT 
VENGEANCE  IS  NOT  HIS,  BUT  ANOTHER'S 

HAPPILY,  dear  reader,  this  is  not  another 
of  the  many  novels  of  the  Civil  War.    I 
repeat,  its  interest  is  personal  rather  than  histor 
ical;  it  is  a  story  of  people,  not  of  adventure, 
subjectively,  not  objectively  considered. 

Nor  am  I  dodging  issues,  or  evading  responsi 
bilities.  An  I  would,  I  could  describe  a  battle,  for 
among  many  other  things  that  I  have  seen  in  dif 
ferent  parts  of  the  world  and  of  which  I  have 
been  a  part — minima  pars! — war  and  its  adven 
tures,  in  a  small  way  at  least,  may  be  numbered. 
Suffice  it  to  say  that  this  little  cavalry  encounter 
was  one  of  the  hardest  engagements  of  the  kind, 
one  of  the  most  bitterly  contested  fights  in  the  his 
tory  of  those  four  long  years.  Riding  their  lean 
and  jaded  horses,  the  leaner  and  more  jaded  men 
of  the  Confederacy  hurled  themselves  with  no 

[336] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

abatement  of  their  old  knightly  daring  upon 
their  stronger,  better  mounted,  better  equipped 
brethren  from  the  north  of  Mason  and  Dixon's 
Line. 

These  Northern  men  were  just  as  anxious  for 
the  battle  as  the  Southerners  but  they  were  a 
steadier,  colder-blooded  lot.  It  was  more  business 
than  pleasure  with  them,  while  it  was  more 
pleasure  than  business  with  the  others.  Again, 
the  interest  of  the  Northern  men  was  not  now  so 
keenly  aroused  in  the  conflict.  The  Southerners 
were  fighting  a  battle  of  despair;  not  one  of  them 
entertained  the  least  hope  of  the  ultimate  success 
of  their  arms;  their  cause  was  lost  even  then;  as 
a  would-be  nation  they  were  doomed;  even  a  vic 
tory  on  that  little  field  would  not  have  affected 
the  final  outcome  in  the  least  degree.  The  North 
ern  cavalrymen  were  as  well  aware  of  these  condi 
tions  as  the  Southern  horsemen.  But  what  of 
that?  While  they  could  sit  horse,  press  trigger, 
draw  sabre,  strike  home,  these  gallant  Southern 
ers  would  fight,  because  of  sheer  love  of  combat, 
if  for  nothing  else;  by  and  by  the  slower  North 
erners  would,  as  always,  catch  the  contagion,  and 
the  battle  would  be  contested,  as  if  the  fate  of  na- 

[337] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

tions  hung  in  the  balance.  Consequently  the  lean 
and  hungry  men  made  up  their  deficiency  in 
strength  and  their  disparity  in  numbers,  by  the 
fierceness  of  their  onset. 

Indeed,  the  advantage  was  with  them  at  the 
point  of  contact;  they  were  going  faster,  they 
knew  the  territory,  they  had  been  apprised  of  the 
advent  of  their  foemen,  they  were  ready.  They 
fell  on  the  galloping  line  of  blue-clad  horsemen 
like  a  tidal  wave  thundering  upon  an  iron  shore. 
Pistols  cracked  in  short  staccato  notes  all  over  the 
field;  men  and  horses  went  down  on  both  sides, 
instantly  to  be  lost  in  the  crowding  mass  of 
pounding  hoofs,  beneath  which  they  were  tram 
pled  hideously  to  earth. 

Officers  spurred  their  horses  to  the  front  and 
shouted  high  commands;  flags  were  advanced, 
and  in  a  twinkling  the  dull  air  of  the  cloudy  after 
noon  was  alight  with  flashing  blades.  After  the 
old  knightly  fashion  of  steel  on  steel  the  contest 
was  to  be  decided.  The  white  weapons  menaced 
the  white  breasts  of  men.  Under  the  tremendous 
drive  of  the  Southern  charge,  the  Union  lines 
gave  back  a  little.  The  Rebel  yell  grew  in 
volume  and  took  on  a  more  triumphant  note,  as 

[338] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

the  Confederates  saw  the  blue  foemen  slowly 
giving  way. 

Stephen  Cleveland's  first  impulse  was  to  rush 
straight  to  Ellison,  who  led  the  charge;  and  that 
he  did  restrain  himself  that  day  showed  the 
quality  of  his  manhood,  the  character  of  his 
soldiership,  and  the  measure  of  his  devotion  to 
his  duty.  His  private  desires  must  wait  upon  his 
country's  need.  He  divined  instantly  that  his 
men,  their  deployment  barely  completed,  would 
scarcely  be  able  to  withstand  that  furious  thun 
derbolt  of  war  which  Ellison  had  fashioned  and 
was  launching  upon  them.  He  hastily  gathered 
two  or  three  troops  on  the  extreme  right  flank 
into  a  compact  mass,  and  waiting  until  the  charge 
struck  the  line,  as  he  saw  it  give  way  before  the 
fierce,  bloodthirsty  hewing  and  hacking,  he  hurled 
this  little  reserve  squadron  full  upon  Ellison's 
exposed  left  flank. 

The  Confederate  saw  the  approach  of  these 
soldiers,  and  he  hastily  summoned  some  of  his 
rear  troops  to  change  front  and  meet  the  onset. 
They  obeyed  his  orders  perfectly,  like  the  dis 
ciplined  men  they  were,  but  they  were  not  strong 
enough  to  resist  the  hammer-like  impact  of  these 

[339] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

new  men  whom  the  Federal  brigadier  personally 
led  into  action. 

The  battle  raged  instantly  upon  two  sides  of  a 
triangle.  The  pressure  on  the  blue  front  was  of 
necessity  relaxed,  the  main  body  of  the  Blue 
troopers  re-formed.  The  line  strengthened,  it 
pressed  hard  against  the  men  in  gray,  their  im 
petus  was  spent,  their  advance  was  stopped.  The 
encounter  became  a  stand-up-and-fight-it-out, 
hand-to-hand  engagement,  with  the  odds  rather 
in  favor  of  the  slightly  more  numerous,  much 
better  conditioned,  and  now  equally  determined 
Union  cavalrymen. 

In  one  thing  the  Confederates  had  a  slight 
compensating  advantage:  they  were  born  horse 
men,  and  they  were  born  swordsmen.  Backward 
and  forward  the  squadrons  wavered,  the  blue 
and  gray  became  terribly  intermingled,  bolder 
spirits  on  either  side  pressed  farther  into  the 
heart  of  the  enemy.  The  clearing  was  filled  with 
the  noise  of  ringing  steel,  the  crack  of  revolvers, 
oaths,  yells,  cheers,  shrieks,  the  scream  of 
wounded  horses.  Semblance  of  order  was  lost; 
no  matter  how  perfectly  one  fought  against  one 
man,  he  ran  the  risk  of  a  thrust  or  a  bullet  from 

[  340  ] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

some  other  who  might  be  temporarily  disengaged. 
Those  were  the  times  that  tried  men's  souls 
indeed. 

The  slower  temper  of  the  Northern  soldiers 
was  at  last  fully  aroused.  They  fought  now  with 
as  much  determination  and  ferocity  as  the  more 
impetuous  Southerners  Prodigies  of  valor  and 
heroism  were  exhibited  on  both  sides.  It  was  an 
old-time  conflict  waged  mainly  with  the  old-time 
weapon,  now  alas,  practically  relegated  to  the 
museums  of  antiquities  in  the  armories  of  the 
world.  In  this  knightly  passage-at-arms  officers 
and  privates  fought  side  by  side.  Distinctions  of 
rank  were  obliterated,  the  only  considerations 
that  counted  were  these:  Was  the  arm  that 
wielded  the  blade  that  crossed  yours,  a  stout  arm 
and  a  skilful?  Was  the  glance  that  challenged 
you  a  true  and  brave  one? 

Stephen  Cleveland  at  last  had  leisure  and  op 
portunity  for  indulging  his  personal  desires.  He 
straightway  began  to  cut  a  path  toward  the  thick 
of  the  fight,  where  the  plume  he  had  noted  indi 
cated  that  Ellison  was  enjoying  himself  to  the 
full  limit  of  his  knightly  soul.  Had  Julia  Cleve 
land  looked  upon  her  husband  then,  she  would  not 

[341] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

have  known  him.  The  light  of  battle  had  trans 
formed  him.  Gone  were  the  gloom,  the  melan 
choly,  the  terrible  sternness.  His  face  was 
aflame,  he  could  almost  have  laughed  as  when  he 
was  a  boy,  —  his  chance  had  come  at  last.  Be 
fore  him  was  his  enemy,  yet  the  excitement  in 
his  soul  did  in  no  degree  affect  his  action;  he 
was  coolness  and  method  incarnate. 

Followed  by  a  little  knot  of  desperate  men  who 
loved  fighting  for  its  own  sake,  and  who  realized 
that  where  their  commander  was  would  be  found 
the  desired  opportunities,  he  pressed  ruthlessly 
on.  He  could  have  enjoyed  many  occasions  for 
single  combat,  but  he  declined  them  all  so  far  as 
he  could,  pushing  away,  thrusting  aside,  swerving 
from  the  onsets  that  were  hurled  upon  him. 

The  gentlemen  who  would  fain  have  enjoyed  a 
gentle  soldierly  debate  with  him  were  promptly 
accommodated  by  different  members  of  his  fol 
lowing.  One  rash  intruder  would  not  be  denied, 
and  because  his  passage  was  barred,  Stephen 
Cleveland  in  a  sudden  accession  of  battle  fury 
cut  him  from  his  shoulder  almost  to  the  saddle 
bow,  with  a  terrific  sweep  of  his  weapon  backed 
by  all  his  force  and  power. 

[342] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

The  next  second  he  found  himself  face  to  face 
with  his  enemy.  Ellison  was  hotly  engaged  by 
a  Union  soldier.  Captain  Stephen  Cleveland 
could  easily  have  thrust  him  through  with  little 
risk  to  himself,  but  that  did  not  suit  his  purpose. 
Spurring  his  excited  horse,  he  interposed  between 
the  Confederate  and  the  trooper,  who  was  plainly 
getting  the  worst  of  it. 

"  Ellison!  "  he  shouted  with  terrific  voice,  heard 
above  all  the  tumult  of  the  conflict. 

The  latter  turned  quickly  to  face  the  new  foe. 
He  raised  his  sword  and  found  himself  confront 
ing  a  slightly  crouching  figure,  presenting  the 
point  of  a  sabre  at  his  throat. 

"  Cleveland!  "  he  cried  in  amaze.  "  I  thought 
you  dead." 

"  I  am  very  much  alive,  you  hound,"  was  the 
unexpected  answer.  "On  guard,  unless  you  wish 
me  to  kill  you  without  mercy." 

A  look  of  great  astonishment  came  into  Elli 
son's  face.  Mechanically  he  made  ready  to  parry 
the  thrust  which  came  with  such  swiftness  that  it 
needed  all  his  strength  and  skill  to  avoid  it. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  he  shouted, 
parrying  another  lightning-like  lunge. 

[343] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

By  this  time,  however,  he  had  recovered  from 
his  amazement,  and  realizing  that  from  some  un 
accountable  reason,  the  other  cherished  some  ter 
rible  animosity  against  him  unexplainable  by  the 
difference  in  uniforms,  he  began  to  fight  for  his 
life.  Truly  he  had  need  of  all  his  skill.  It  may 
be  that  the  Southerner  might  have  had  a  shade 
the  better  of  an  ordinary  argument  with  swords, 
but  hate,  which  was  yet  powerless  to  blind  judg 
ment,  did  not  nerve  his  arm  as  it  did  the 
Northerner's  arm. 

The  intense  determination  of  the  Northern 
officer  somewhat  overmatched  the  superior  skill 
of  the  Southern  captain,  and  when  the  difference 
in  condition  between  the  two  was  thrown  in  the 
balance,  Ellison  began  to  give  way.  The  light 
ning  like  cut  and  thrust  of  his  envenomed  antag 
onist  gave  him  no  respite,  and  to  complete  his  dis 
comfiture  his  horse  suddenly  stumbled.  Poor 
Ellison  pitched  forward  slightly  and  lost  his 
balance.  At  that  instant  he  felt  the  point  of  his 
adversary's  sabre  at  his  throat.  A  thousandth 
part  of  a  second,  and  it  would  be  all  over. 

Stephen  Cleveland's  revenge  was  in  his  hands, 
he  had  but  to  extend  his  arm ;  instead  of  that  he 

[344] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

drew  it  back!  Why,  he  did  not  know,  he  could 
not  say,  he  never  was  sure,  but  that  he  did  it  gave 
him  abundant  comfort  then  and  thereafter.  And 
there  was  little  need,  for  as  he  withdrew  his  own 
sword,  catching  as  he  did  so  a  glance  of  soldierly 
appreciation  in  the  other's  eyes,  a  Union  trooper 
near  at  hand,  spurring  madly  across  the  field,  saw 
his  opportunity  and  drove  his  own  blade  under 
the  right  arm  and  into  the  lung  of  the  brave  Con 
federate  general.  He  plunged  forward  on  his 
horse  and  —  wonder  of  all  wonders !  —  it  was 
Stephen  Cleveland's  arm  which  kept  him  from 
falling. 

That  ended  the  little  conflict :  the  men  in  gray 
saw  the  mishap  to  their  leader,  they  had  been 
slowly  giving  way  before,  —  the  end  was  certain. 
The  second  in  command  was  an  experienced 
soldier.  It  was  better  to  preserve  even  the  rem 
nants  of  his  precious  brigade  than  to  let  it  be 
annihilated  on  that  field.  Bugle  calls  rang  high 
and  shrill,  the  men  in  gray  disengaged  swiftly, 
wheeled  about  and  broke  away,  realizing  the 
meaning  of  the  order  before  their  slower  antag 
onists  had  even  heard  it. 

Infantry  which  had  been  hurried  to  the  left  op- 
[345] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

portunely  appeared  under  the  trees  at  the  edge  of 
the  clearing,  crashing  volleys  of  musketry  rang 
out.  Behind  the  infantry  the  Confederate  horse, 
badly  shattered  and  having  sustained  severe 
losses  ill  to  be  afforded,  re-formed.  To  have  at 
tacked  these  reinforcements  would  have  entailed 
heavy  and  useless  loss.  The  main  battle  was  be 
ing  fought  far  to  the  right.  The  diversion  which 
Stephen  Cleveland  had  made  had  served  its  pur 
pose;  it  had  drawn  infantry  from  the  left  and 
centre  to  strengthen  the  line ;  nothing  further  was 
to  be  gained  by  attempting  to  storm  the  Con 
federate  right.  These  positions  would  be  unten 
able  in  a  few  moments  anyway. 

Cool  soldier  that  he  was,  Stephen  Cleveland 
having  thus  brilliantly  carried  out  his  orders,  led 
his  re-formed  regiments  back  to  the  shelter  of  the 
clearing  and  deployed  them,  threatening  the 
enemy  and  holding  him  in  place  while  he  was  be 
ing  overwhelmed  elsewhere.  On  his  own  horse, 
within  the  Union  lines,  was  led  the  dying  Confed 
erate  commander.  They  laid  him  on  coats  and 
blankets  piled  on  the  wet  grass  under  the  trees. 
The  swift  examination  of  the  Union  surgeon 

[346] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

convinced  the  little  group  about  him  that  Ellison's 
hour  was  at  hand. 

"  How  is  it,  Doctor? "  gasped  the  man  as  the 
surgeon  started  to  leave. 

"  You  are  a  soldier,  General,"  answered  the 
surgeon,  gravely.  "  I  am  afraid  —  "  he  stopped. 

"  I  understand,  sir,"  returned  Ellison,  thickly, 
"and  our  cause  is  lost  —  I  am  glad  to  have  died 
—  at  the  head  of  my  men — on  a  hard-fought 
field." 

He  closed  his  eyes,  the  effort  of  speech  being 
terrific. 

"  Gentlemen,"  began  Stephen  Cleveland, 
slowly  to  the  bystanders,  "  I  know  this  officer,  he 
was  once  my  friend.  You  are  sure  you  can  do 
nothing  for  him?"  he  asked  of  the  surgeon. 

"Nothing,  sir,  he  has  hardly  five  minutes  to 
live." 

"  Gentlemen,  will  you  withdraw  and  leave  me 
alone  with  the  prisoner?"  asked  the  Union  com 
mander. 

Instantly  the  others  bowed  their  acquiescence 
and  turned  away,  moving  out  of  ear-shot,  and 
preventing  others  from  approaching.  Captain 

[347] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

Stephen  Cleveland  knelt  down  by  the  side  of  the 
man  he  hated. 

"  Ellison,"  he  said  in  piercing  whisper. 

The  other  opened  his  eyes. 

"  It 's  you,  Cleveland,"  he  said  thickly.  His 
hand  went  to  the  breast  of  his  coat,  he  fumbled 
with  something  a  moment.  "  It 's  there,"  he 
said. 

But  Stephen  Cleveland  had  other  things  to 
think  about  than  what  was  in  the  breast  pocket  of 
his  enemy's  coat. 

"  What  about  my  wife? "  he  asked. 

Ellison  opened  his  eyes.  For  a  moment  they 
brightened  at  the  mention  of  the  woman  of  whom 
he  too  had  dreamed,  and  whom  he  also  had  loved, 
and  to  whom  he  had  been  absolutely  true  during 
those  years  of  absence,  of  hard  fighting  within 
and  without. 

"  I  loved  her,"  he  said  brokenly. 

"And  she,"  persisted  the  man  bending  over 
him,  clenching  and  unclenching  his  hands. 
"What  of  her?" 

"  She  —  she  —  "  began  the  man  weakly. 

He  was  trying  desperately  to  say  something. 
Captain  Stephen  helped  him. 

[348] 


Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  knelt  down  by  the  side  of  the 
man  he  hated.          Ellison,"  he  said  in  piercing  whisper, 
what  about  my  wife  ? ' ' 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"  Did  you  and  she  ever  live  together  —  as  man 
and  wife?"  he  asked. 

A  little  smile  flickered  across  the  pale  face  and 
paler  lips  of  the  dying  man.  Again  his  hand 
went  to  his  breast.  Evidently  in  his  own  thought 
he  had  not  heard  the  question,  or  if  he  had  he  did 
not  heed  it. 

"  Julia  —  she  —  "  his  voice  faltered.  "  I  loved 
her,"  came  clear  and  strong  from  his  lips. 

"  I  want  an  answer,"  cried  Captain  Stephen 
Cleveland,  laying  his  hand  not  too  gently  upon 
the  other's  shoulder. 

He  never  got  that  answer  for  which  he  had 
waited  so  long.  There  came  a  choking  cough,  a 
rush  of  bloody  foam  from  the  lips  which  were 
suddenly  compressed  and  as  suddenly  relaxed, 
and  with  that  word  of  affection  still  echoing  in 
the  ear  of  the  living,  the  dying  passed  beyond 
speech  or  answer  to  any  question. 

The  four  years'  quest  of  his  enemy,  whose  death 
he  had  prayed  for,  whose  punishment  he  had 
planned,  was  over.  The  man  had  fallen  to  his 
hand  at  last  and  he  had  spared  him.  The  hope  he 
had  cherished  that  from  him  might  be  learned 
some  assurance  that  it  was  all  a  hideous  dream, 

[349] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

that  there  had  been  some  awful  mistake,  that  it 
might  be  possible  that  Julia  had  not  twice  lied  to 
him,  had  vanished  with  that  bubbling  rush  of 
heart's  blood  between  clenched  teeth  and  stiffen 
ing  lips. 

The  man  he  hated,  the  man  he  believed  had 
supplanted  him  in  his  wife's  heart,  had  died  con 
fessing  to  him,  her  lawful  wedded  husband,  that 
he  had  loved  her,  that  he  still  loved  her.  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland  had  not  had  any  answer 
to  his  question,  he  had  not  taken  vengeance  for 
his  wrong.  The  man  had  fallen  by  another's 
hand. 

"Vengeance  is  mine;  I  will  repay.,  saith  the 
Lord" 

Oh,  Stephen  Cleveland,  what  occurred  to  you 
in  that  hour  as  you  knelt  there,  your  face  in  your 
hands,  when  you  were  not  staring  into  the  com 
posed  face  of  the  man  you  had  so  hated  living, 
but  somehow  could  not  quite  hate  dead?  Did 
Julia  hate  little  Felicity  that  way  when  she  saw 
her  dead  on  the  island?  Did  you  wonder  about 
that  then?  Did  you  make  any  excuses  for  your 
wife  in  that  hour?  Who  can  tell? 

Presently  Stephen  Cleveland  rose  to  his  feet, 
[350] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

his  officers  noticing  how  very  white  and  drawn 
and  tired  he  looked. 

"  Send  me  a  surgeon,"  he  cried  brusquely,  and 
presently  one  joined  him  where  he  stood  by  the 
motionless  figure  on  the  wet  grass  under  the  trees, 
and  Stephen  Cleveland  pointed  downward. 

"Well? "he  asked. 

The  surgeon  knelt  down  and  made  a  rapid 
examination. 

"  Dead,  sir,"  he  answered. 

"  That  will  do,"  was  the  quick  reply.  "  I  want 
a  flag  of  truce." 

A  pocket  handkerchief  was  produced  and  tied 
on  the  point  of  a  sabre.  A  rude  stretcher  was  im 
provised  from  rifles  and  blankets.  With  his  own 
hands  Stephen  Cleveland  composed  thereon  the 
body  of  his  dead  enemy,  or  friend.  As  he  drew 
the  right  hand  away  from  the  breast  he  found 
clasped  in  the  fingers  a  little  packet.  It  was  evi 
dently  that  which  had  agitated  him,  and  to  which 
Stephen  Cleveland  now  remembered  the  dead 
man  had  tried  to  call  attention. 

He  took  it  from  the  fingers  of  the  other,  indeed 
it  fell  when  the  arm  was  moved.  His  pale  face 
glowed  with  sudden  color  when  he  saw  that  it  was  a 

[351] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

letter,  well  wrapped  and  sealed,  that  had  evidently 
been  carried  for  a  long  time.  It  was  the  address 
that  caused  Stephen  Cleveland's  blood  to  burn  in 
his  cheeks  and  his  usually  steady  hands  to  tremble, 
for  this  is  what  he  read  upon  it,  in  writing  blurred 
but  still  sufficiently  clear: 

**At  the  request  of  the  dead,  will  the  finder  of  this  please 
see  that  it  gets  to  Mrs.  Julia  Cleveland,  the  wife  of  Cap 
tain  Stephen  Cleveland,  of  Salem,  Massachusetts?" 

and  then  followed  Ellison's  bold  and  flowing 
signature. 

All  his  jealousy  and  hatred  flamed  into  life 
again,  as  he  held  that  packet  in  his  hand;  he 
clenched  his  fist  and  looked  down  into  the  still, 
composed  face,  all  his  anger  welling  in  his  heart 
again;  but  it  was  too  late  now. 

Then  he  laughed  at  the  grim  irony  of  fate, 
which  made  him  the  bearer  of  the  last  message 
from  the  dead  man  to  the  woman  they  both  loved. 
Stephen  Cleveland's  wife !  Life  is  a  tragic  farce, 
he  thought,  a  comedy  of  errors  filled  with 
horrors. 

And  she  should  have  her  packet.  Fate,  which 
had  sported  with  him  so  long,  had  laid  this  last 

[352] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

task  upon  him.  He  would  discharge  it,  and  then 
he  would  fight  no  more. 

The  war  was  practically  over.  God  had  not 
permitted  him  to  be  killed  on  the  field;  God  had 
mocked  him,  robbed  him  of  his  vengeance.  Well, 
he  would  take  life  into  his  own  hands  and  dispose 
of  it  presently,  but  not  until  he  had  seen  her. 

"  The  flag  is  ready,  sir,"  said  one  of  his  young 
aids. 

"  Very  good,  sir,  detail  a  squad  to  carry  the 
body,  and  do  you  gentlemen  accompany  me." 

It  was  all  done  with  swift,  soldier-like  pre 
cision.  At  the  head  of  the  rude  bier  walked 
the  young  soldier  with  the  white  handkerchief 
fluttering  from  the  point  of  his  bared 
blade  in  the  gray  dusk  of  the  evening; 
next  came  the  body  of  Ellison;  after  that,  alone, 
Stephen  Cleveland  followed  sword  in  hand,  and 
behind,  a  little  group  of  staff -officers  and  others. 

The  flag  was  met  outside  the  Confederate 
lines;  the  men  in  gray  knew  what  was  toward. 
In  the  waning  light  they  could  see  that  a  body 
was  being  returned  to  them.  There  were  hun 
dreds  of  other  bodies  in  the  clearing,  each  one 
dear  to  some  one,  but  they  knew  they  were  to  re- 

[353] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

ceive  the  body  of  their  dead  leader,  dear  to  them 
all. 

Stephen  Cleveland  and  his  officers  stood  with 
bared  blades  in  final  salute,  as  the  little  cortege 
which  had  met  them  turned  away  and  steadily 
bore  their  dead  captain  back  to  his  devoted  men, 
to  be  buried  by  them  there  on  the  battlefield 
where,  in  truth,  a  soldier  should  most  gladly  lie. 
Stephen  Cleveland,  honoring  the  body  of  his 
dead  enemy,  with  the  memory  of  the  soldier's 
last  words  burned  upon  his  heart,  beating  be 
neath  the  packet  that  carried  his  last  message 
to  Stephen  Cleveland's  wife,  somehow  seems 
to  me  to  be  a  very  splendid,  noble  figure;  and  I 
love  to  think  of  him  and  that  last  salute  amid  the 
wrecks  of  battle,  in  the  end  of  war,  on  that  rainy 
Virginia  night,  in  that  springtime  long  ago. 


[354] 


BOOK  VII 
FORGIVENESS  DIVINE 


- 
- 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

HOW  JULIA  CLEVELAND  PLANNED  FOR  HAPPINESS, 
AND  THE  GREAT  ALLY  SHE  MADE 

WELL,  the  war  at  last  is  over.  Like  the  na 
tion  then,  I  am  sure  the  reader,  especially 
the  gentler  one,  now  is  very  glad.  There  may  be 
rougher  spirits  here  and  there,  as  were  in  both 
armies,  who  are  sorry,  and  there  may  be  a  few 
who  have  other  reasons  not  to  welcome  the  piping 
times  of  peace. 

Stephen  Cleveland,  now  Brevet  Major  Gen 
eral,  if  you  please,  for  gallant  and  meritorious 
service  throughout  the  campaign,  culminating  in 
the  dashing  brilliancy  of  his  telling  little  opera 
tions  at  Five  Forks,  was  in  two  minds  about  the 
war.  He  did  not  love  killing  for  its  own  sake,  he 
was  still  too  much  of  a  sailor  to  be  attracted  by 
the  soldiering  trade,  and  he  was  at  heart  a  peace 
ful  man ;  but  the  close  of  the  war  forced  him  to  a 
decision,  brought  him  inevitably  to  some  course 

[357] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

of  action.  What  that  course  would  be  he  could 
not  even  yet  decide. 

While  the  country  had  need  of  him,  and  while 
his  thirst  for  vengeance  was  still  insatiate,  he  had 
reasonable  excuse  for  his  whole-souled  devotion 
to  his  new  profession;  but  now  that  his  country 
had  no  need  of  him,  and  that  his  past  desire  for 
vengeance  found  its  course  irreparably  blocked, 
claims  which  had  been  less  insistent  inevitably  as 
sumed  the  place  of  first  importance. 

What  was  his  future  to  be?  Amid  hundreds  of 
other  meritorious  and  deserving  officers,  he  had 
been  offered  a  commission  —  in  his  case  with  the 
rank  of  captain  —  in  the  regular  army.  To  ac 
cept  the  commission  would  have  assured  his 
future.  He  had  no  mind  to  it;  indeed,  when  he 
should  discard  his  uniform  and  be  mustered  out 
he  intended  to  seek  service  again  upon  the  sea,  to 
which  he  had  been  born  and  bred. 

His  own  personal  future,  therefore,  did  not 
give  him  a  great  deal  of  concern.  It  was  his  fu 
ture  relationship  to  his  wife  that  had  to  be  settled. 
He  had  given  over  at  last  all  idea  of  self  destruc 
tion.  He  had  defeated  more  than  the  enemy  in 
those  four  years  of  battle;  he  had  achieved  a 

[358] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

conquest  over  himself.  The  victory  was  partial 
and  not  complete,  but  it  was  a  step  in  the  right 
direction,  for  he  took  a  kindlier  view  of  Ellison. 
After  all,  it  was  natural  for  his  friend  to  have 
loved  Julia  Cleveland.  How  could  he  have 
helped  it?  How  could  anybody  help  it?  Al 
though  he  thought  she  had  been  unfaithful  to  him, 
Stephen  Cleveland  loved  her  still. 

If  he  could  be  sure  that  she  loved  him  at  last, 
after  all  that  had  happened,  he  might  condone  the 
past  and  take  her  back.  Yes,  he  had  come  to  that 
conclusion.  He  had  fashioned  many  excuses  for 
his  own  conduct  with  Felicity  on  the  island;  he 
now  began  to  find  a  few  for  Julia.  He  thought 
he  knew  his  wife,  and  perhaps  he  did,  as  well  as 
any  given  man  knows  any  given  woman;  he 
thought  that  she  must  have  loved  Ellison  very 
deeply,  else  she  could  not  have  given  herself  to 
him. 

For  a  woman  to  give,  and  for  a  man  to  give, 
even  under  exactly  similar  conditions,  involves  a 
vast  difference.  Moral  standards  and  physical 
conditions  are  so  variable  in  the  cases  of  man  and 
woman.  There  was  a  difference;  yes,  undoubt 
edly,  but  after  all,  what  difference? 

[359] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

He  did  full  justice  to  the  fine  character  of  his 
wife,  in  spite  of  what  she  had  told  him.  He  de 
pended  upon  her  absolutely.  He  trusted  her,  he 
had  no  doubts  about  her  conduct  there  in  New 
York.  Strangely  inconsistent?  Yes,  but  so  it 
was.  So  soon  as  she  found  him  alive,  he  knew  in 
evitably  that  any  wrong  relationship  with  any 
other  man  would  stop,  as  it  had  stopped.  He 
also  expected  that  conscience,  duty,  what  you  will, 
would  make  her  the  more  anxious  to  do  whatever 
he  wished  and  whatever  was  right.  It  was  that 
which  had  caused  her  to  write  those  letters  to  him 
during  the  war,  he  thought ;  it  was  that  which  had 
caused  her  to  live  so  quietly,  which  had  brought 
her  to  such  instant  compliance  with  his  sug 
gestions  as  to  the  ordering  of  her  life. 

If  he  could  have  been  sure  that  it  was  not  duty, 
but  love,  just  a  little  love  for  him,  which  was  the 
mainspring  of  her  actions,  he  could  have  taken  her 
to  his  heart  with  some  comfort  and  satisfaction. 
If  there  had  been  only  some  touch  of  human  pas 
sion  in  those  letters,  every  one  of  which  he  had  so 
carefully  treasured,  which  he  had  read  until  he 
had  almost  worn  them  to  rags,  he  could  have  for 
given  her  the  more  easily  and  taken  her  back  the 

[360] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

more  readily.  Though  there  would  always  be  a 
ghastly  spectre  of  broken  faith  to  rise  between 
them,  they  could  have  some  kind  of  happiness  to 
gether,  surely.  Sometimes  he  thought  that  any 
kind  of  happiness  with  her  would  be  better  than 
the  hell  of  doubt,  of  indecision,  of  unsatisfied 
longing,  of  unrequited  affection,  in  which  he 
lived. 

If  he  could  only  know  that  she  loved  him,  if 
she  had  grown  to  care  for  him  again,  if  she  could 
forgive  him  his  own  lapse,  he  would  forgive  hers. 
He  thought  sometimes  that  he  could  forgive  any 
thing  but  the  lie  she  had  told;  that  is,  the  lie  he 
fancied  she  had  told  him,  when  she  attempted  to 
deny  what  she  had  before  admitted,  for  as  an  ad 
mission  her  folly  presented  itself  to  him. 

How  grimly  ironic  is  fate!  He  could  not  for 
give  the  lie,  although  he  was  willing  to  forgive  the 
truth.  What  tangled  webs  are  woven  about  us! 
How  we  play  at  cross  purposes! 

Stephen  Cleveland  sat  for  the  last  time  in  his 
tent  in  the  camp  near  Washington,  with  two 
packets  in  his  hands,  two  small  packets.  One, 
blood-stained,  addressed  to  his  wife;  another, 
worn  and  frayed,  addressed  to  himself,  and  to  be 

[361] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

opened  only  under  certain  conditions  which  had 
not  arisen. 

What  message  had  Julia  Cleveland  for  him, 
and  what  message  had  Ellison  for  her?  What 
did  those  packets  contain?  —  what  protesta 
tions  of  one  dying?  —  what  confessions  of  one 
living? 

Honor  is  a  little  word,  but  sometimes  the  things 
it  expresses  are  not  in  proportion  to  the  shortness 
of  the  term.  It  was  so  in  Stephen  Cleveland's 
case.  He  could  not  open  those  two  packets,  to 
save  his  soul.  He  could  not  suppress  Ellison's 
packet  either;  he  must  place  it  in  his  wife's  hands. 
Even  if  it  reawakened  in  her  heart  all  the  passion 
he  believed  she  once  had  experienced  for  Ellison, 
it  would  make  no  difference,  he  must  give  it  to 
her.  They  had  to  meet,  those  two;  they  must 
talk  of  the  past,  they  must  plan  the  future,  and 
everything  bearing  upon  the  past  must  be  avail 
able  for  the  settlement. 

Stephen  Cleveland  recognized  that  so  far  as 
she  could,  his  wife  had  made  certain  atonement. 
He  asked  himself  how  far  he  was  justified  in 
committing  her  to  a  continuance  of  the  lonely  life 
she  had  led  during  the  past  four  years.  It  had 

[362] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

been  hard  enough  on  him,  he  realized  that  it  must 
have  been  harder  on  her;  he  at  least  had  enjoyed 
the  alleviation  of  action,  which  had  been  denied 
her.  He  knew  little  about  her  work  in  the  Sani 
tary  Commission,  by  the  way. 

He  thought  bitterly  how  much  better  it  would 
have  been  if  he  could  have  died  instead  of  Ellison, 
or  even  if  he  could  have  died  with  Ellison.  Julia 
was  young  still,  and  more  beautiful  than  ever. 
Save  for  his  grief  and  his  cares,  he  was  still  a 
young  man  himself.  With  one  or  both  of  them 
out  of  the  way,  life  would  have  held  much  hap 
piness  for  her  eventually. 

Do  these  reflections  seem  disconnected  and  in 
coherent  to  the  reader?  They  are  order  itself 
compared  to  the  turmoil  in  Stephen  Cleveland's 
heart  and  soul,  as  he  sat  in  his  camp  in  Wash 
ington  that  late  afternoon  after  the  grand  re 
view,  expecting  to  be  mustered  out  on  the  next 
day.  Thereafter  he  intended  to  take  the  first 
train  to  New  York,  to  see  his  wife  immediately 
on  arrival,  and  have  it  over. 

While  he  mused,  one  of  his  staff-officers  opened 
the  flap  of  the  tent,  saluted,  and  handed  him  a 
paper.  He  opened  it  listlessly  enough*  and 

[363] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

glanced  over  it.  It  was  signed  byl[General 
Meade,  Commander  of  the  Army  of  The  Poto 
mac,  and  informed  him  in  the  brief  phraseology 
of  a  military  order  that  General  Grant  desired  to 
see  him  in  Parlor  E  of  the  Willard  Hotel  at  seven 
o'clock  that  same  evening. 

Stephen  Cleveland  had,  of  course,  often  seen 
the  Union  Commander-in-Chief ,  but  he  had  never 
met  him.  He  wondered  what  might  be  back  of 
such  a  summons,  as  he  at  once  prepared  to  obey 
it,  the  hour  being  already  late. 

Amid  the  throng  which  watched  the  Union 
Army  tramp  down  Pennsylvania  Avenue  that 
spring  morning,  preparatory  to  its  dissolution  into 
peaceful,  industrious,  labor-hunting  units  on  the 
morrow,  had  been  Julia  Cleveland.  As  before, 
when  she  watched  the  regimeift  march  away,  she 
had  eyes  but  for  one  man  in  the  whole  army. 
When  the  cavalry  came  along,  she  marked  him, 
lean,  spare,  strong,  eagle-eyed,  bronzed,  a  rather 
terrific  incarnation  of  war,  riding  in  front  of 
tattered  guidons  at  the  head  of  his  brigade  of 
hard-bitten,  desperate  fighters.  There  were  in 
that  Army  of  the  Potomac  horsemen  more  dash 
ing,  brilliant,  jaunty,  men  of  daring  gallantry, 

[364] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

whose  bearing  gave  evidence  of  their  quality ;  but 
there  was  something  in  her  husband  that  re 
minded  the  thoughtful  of  Grant  himself,  if  Grant 
had  been  six  feet  tall,  broad-shouldered,  and 
strong-limbed  in  proportion. 

When  he  came  into  the  field  of  her  vision  her 
knees  shook,  and  she  turned  so  white  that  she 
could  scarcely  support  herself.  Indeed  she  would 
have  fallen  had  it  not  been  for  the  timely  assist 
ance  of  friendly  bystanders.  She  had  all  she 
could  do  not  to  scream  out  his  name.  The  repres 
sion  of  four  years  burst  through  the  barriers,  and 
but  for  the  fact  that  the  swift  march  soon  took 
him  out  of  her  sight,  she  must  have  called  to  him 
or  died. 

Julia  was  alone,  too.  Old  Foresman  was  not 
with  her ;  he  could  never  be  with  anybody  on  earth 
again.  He  had  slipped  his  cable  and  gone  out  on 
his  last  cruise  ten  days  before,  and  she  had  come, 
as  it  were,  from  his  grave-side  to  see  her  husband. 
She  did  not  know  what  he  intended  to  do.  She 
had  heard,  of  course,  in  the  papers,  of  the  death 
of  General  Ellison  at  the  head  of  his  command 
during  an  engagement  with  her  husband's  bri 
gade.  She  read  between  the  lines  all  sorts  of  ter- 

[365] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

rible  happenings.  Had  those  two  met?  Had 
there  been  time  for  speech  between  them,  for  in 
terchange  of  thought,  for  question  or  answer? 
She  had  to  know.  She  had  perforce  accepted  the 
situation  while  the  war  lasted,  but  now  she  could 
wait  no  longer. 

She  could  not  fathom  her  husband's  probable 
course;  he  had  said  nothing  to  her,  written  noth 
ing  to  her,  communicated  with  her  in  no  way  since 
that  parting  four  years  before.  He  might  intend 
to  continue  this  policy  of  silence  and  withdrawal 
absolutely.  That  she  could  not  stand;  she  must 
see  him,  she  must  speak  to  him,  or  she  would  die. 
It  might  be  that  she  would  die  afterwards,  she  did 
not  care.  Hence  she  had  come  to  Washington, 
she  had  been  a  spectator  of  his  triumphant 
passing. 

Oh,  Stephen  Cleveland,  was  there  no  presence 
in  the  crowds  on  that  spring  morning  to  cause 
you  to  cease  staring  straight  ahead,  to  make  you 
glance  aside?  Could  you  not  have  picked  out 
from  among  the  thousands  that  white-faced,  re 
pentant,  forgiving,  loving  woman  on  the  side 
walk,  whose  pallor  and  the  simplicity  of  whose 
dress  but  served  to  accentuate  her  beauty  —  a 

[366] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

beauty  that  was  yours,  a  beauty  of  soul  and  body 
and  mind  that  was  yours,  for  the  taking. 

How  much  sometimes  does  the  soldier  miss 
who  rides  straight  on!  How  much  happiness  on 
occasion  we  get  or  we  give,  by  a  glance  to  the 
right  or  to  the  left  as  we  press  toward  the  mark  of 
whatever  high  calling  we  may  pursue!  Look 
aside,  O  conqueror,  as  you  pass  on  your  imperial 
and  imperious  way,  and  give  a  thought  to  com 
mon  humanity,  living  and  dead,  bordering  your 
road. 

How  she  passed  the  day,  the  long  hours  while 
the  tramp,  tramp,  tramp  of  thousands  of  march 
ing  feet  on  the  pavement  beat  upon  her  heart, 
she  scarcely  knew.  She  had  come  there  with  his 
money,  and  with  not  too  great  a  store  of  it,  yet 
without  a  thought  she  paid  extravagantly  for 
carriage  hire,  and  as  soon  as  a  vehicle  could  make 
its  way  through  the  streets,  she  had  herself  driven 
to  the  War  Department.  She  speedily  ascer 
tained,  happily  for  her,  that  the  Commander-in- 
Chief  was  in  the  office  of  the  Secretary  of  War. 

General  Grant  was  not  an  unapproachable 
man,  —  far  from  it,  —  but  there  were  so  many 
demands  on  his  time  that  of  late  it  had  become 

[367] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

somewhat  difficult  to  get  access  to  him.  But  all 
doors  are  unlocked  by  gallant  men  for  beauty  in 
distress.  Her  simple  statement  that  she  was  a 
soldier's  wife  in  great  trouble,  who  begged  for 
five  minutes  with  the  Chief  Captain  of  all  the 
soldiers,  sufficed,  and  presently  she  was  ushered 
into  a  great  room,  which  a  little  man  with  a  gray 
ish  beard  and  a  beetling  brow  and  direct  glance 
and  firm  lips  completely  filled. 

"  General  Grant,"  she  began. 

The  General  had  understood  that  she  wished  to 
see  him  alone,  and  had  dismissed  all  attendants; 
even  the  great  War  Secretary  had  withdrawn  to 
another  room,  leaving  them  undisturbed. 

The  little  General  laid  aside  his  cigar  and  rose 
to  his  feet  as  she  entered.  He  bowed  gravely  in 
answer  to  her  salutation. 

"  My  name  is  Cleveland,"  she  continued.  "  I 
am  the  wife  of  one  of  your  soldiers,  Captain 
Stephen  Cleveland." 

"Captain?"  inquired  Grant  thoughtfully. 

"  Forgive  me,  he  is  a  general,  but  I  knew  him 
and  loved  him  under  the  old  title.  He  was  a 
sailor  before  he  went  to  the  wars,  —  we  cruised 
together  on  his  ship  when  we  were  married." 

[368] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

'  You  mean,"  asked  Grant  inquiringly,  "  Bre 
vet  Major  General  Clevelan4  of  Custer's 
division?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"A  good  soldier,"  returned  the  great  captain. 
"  What  can  I  do  for  you? " 

"  I  want  to  see  him,  I  want  t0  speak  to  him." 

"You  are  his  wife,  madam W 

"  Yes,  sir,  but  I  have  not  seen  him,  I  have  not 
heard  from  him,  in  four  years." 

"Why  has  he  neglected  you?" 

"The  fault  is  mine,  he  believed  me  to  have 
been  an  —  unfaithful  wife." 

"  And  with  reason? "  asked  the  little  man  with 
simple  directness  characteristic  of  him,  and  yet 
with  a  gleam  of  kindness  and  sympathy  which 
robbed  the  question  of  insult  or  exacerbation. 

"  Before  God,  no,"  protested  the  woman,  quite 
understanding  her  great  interlocutor.  "  I  have 
been  as  true  to  him  since  I  married  him,  and 
before,  as  woman  could  be." 

"What  warrants  his  belief?" 

"I  have  been  foolish,  sir;  the  fault  is  mine, 
but  I  am  not  guilty." 

The  General  looked  at  her  with  those  direct, 
[369] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

piercing  eyes   of  his   that  seemed  to  have  the 
power  of  seeing  into  the  very  heart  of  things. 

"  Madam,"  he  said  at  last,  satisfied  with  his 
inspection,  "I  believe  you." 

"I  have  lived  in  absolute  retirement  in  New 
York  while  my  husband  .has  been  to  the  front, 
and  save  for  the  Sanitary  Commission,  I  have  — " 

"Are  you  the  Mrs.  Cleveland  who  owns  that 
mine  in  California  —  I  forget  its  name  —  and 
who  has  done  so  much  for  the  Sanitary  Com 
mission?  "  asked  the  little  General,  startled  into 
tremendous  loquacity  for  him. 

"  I  have  done  what  I  could." 

"  The  nation  is  indebted  to  you,  madam. 
What  do  you  wish  of  me?" 

"  I  want  you  to  order  nty  husband  to  see  me." 

A  ghost  of  a  smile  flickered  over  the  grim  and 
inscrutable  face  of  the  great  commander. 

"  I  scarcely  think  that  military  authority  ex 
tends  as  far  as  that." 

Julia's  face  fell. 

"But  I  have  often  been  able  to  effect  by 
strategy  what  I  could  not  bring  about  by  the 
application  of  direct  force,"  he  continued. 
"  Where  are  you  stopping?  " 

[370] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"  At  the  Willard  Hotel." 

"  And  I  am  there  as  well.  What  is  your  room 
number?" 

"  Parlor  E." 

"My  own  apartments  are  on  the  same  floor. 
I  will  order  your  husband  to  report  to  me  in 
Parlor  E  at  —  "  the  General  looked  at  his  watch 
—  "  it  is  half  after  five  now,  —  I  will  say  at  seven 
o'clock  this  evening.  You  will  receive  him  in 
my  place." 

"  Thank  you,  and  God  bless  you,  General 
Grant,"  cried  Julia  Cleveland. 

She  stepped  nearer  to  him  and  seized  his 
hand.  The  little  General  was  very  much  em 
barrassed;  he  could  deal  better  with  masses  of 
men  than  with  an  individual  woman. 

"  I  hope  for  your  happiness  and  the  happiness 
of  so  good  a  soldier,"  he  said,  turning  away,  as 
if  to  indicate  that  the  interview  was  over. 

Grant's  was  a  mind  that  forgot  no  details; 
therefore  when  Stephen  Cleveland  in  full  dress 
uniform  as  became  an  official  visit,  presented 
himself  at  the  desk  of  the  Willard  Hotel,  he  was 
met  by  one  of  Grant's  staff-officers  who  had 
been  specifically  detailed  to  intercept  him,  and 

[371] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

by  him  he  was  conducted  up  the  stairs  to  the 
door  of  Parlor  E.  The  staff-officer,  who  had 
received  his  instructions,  tapped  lightly  on  the 
door,  threw  it  open  without  waiting  for  a 
response,  ushered  Stephen  Cleveland  into  the 
room,  withdrew  himself,  and  closed  the  door 
swiftly  behind  him. 

Stephen  Cleveland  had  no  manner  of  suspicion 
as  to  what  was  about  to  occur;  he  happened  to 
know  the  staff -officer  by  sight  and  had  followed 
him  without  question.  He  was  a  little  surprised 
to  find  the  room,  which  was  furnished  as  a  parlor, 
empty  of  occupants.  He  stood  for  a  moment 
wondering  a  little,  supposing  the  General  to  be 
in  an  adjoining  room  the  door  of  which  was  very 
slightly  ajar,  and  imagined  that  he  would  pre 
sent  himself  in  due  course. 

He  crossed  the  room  to  the  window  and  stood 
looking  down  upon  the  brightly  lighted  street 
crowded  with  soldiers  and  civilians.  After  a 
moment  he  heard  the  door  to  the  left  creak 
slightly,  and  he  quickly  turned  about  to  face  — 
his  wife, 


[372] 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

WHEREIN  THE  READER  FINDS  AT  LAST  THAT 
ALL  IS  WELL 

JULIA  CLEVELAND  had  so  much  at  stake 
that  she  could  not  afford  to  neglect  or  over 
look  any  point  in  the  game,  however  insignificant 
it  might  seem.  She  knew  her  beauty,  and  she 
realized  its  power.  Whatever  she  could  do  to 
enhance  it  she  had  done.  In  view  of  the  gravity 
of  the  issue  to  be  determined,  some  of  her  critics 
—  and  I  doubt  not  her  story,  as  I  have  set  it 
down,  has  developed  many  —  might  have  found 
fault  with  her  for  her  present  attire.  She  had 
laid  aside  the  sober  garments  which  it  had  been 
her  custom  to  wear  since  they  two  had  parted, 
and  was  dressed  that  night  in  a  most  beautiful 
and  becoming  gown  of  the  prevailing  fashion 
of  the  day,  made  and  fitted  to  her  with  the  most 
exquisite  skill  and  dainty  taste  that  the  best 
modiste  in  New  York  could  produce.  The  dress 

[373] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

was  a  ball  dress.  I  confess  myself  unable  to 
describe  it.  Her  exquisite  shoulders  rose  above 
masses  of  filmy  white,  and  I  know  that  a  little 
wreath  of  pink  rosebuds  was  woven  in  her  sunny 
hair.  The  excitement,  the  hope,  had  brought 
rich  color  into  her  cheeks. 

What  a  picture  she  must  have  presented,  as 
she  stood  there  in  the  doorway  with  the  darkness 
of  an  unlighted  room  behind  her  making  a  back 
ground,  with  the  full  lustre,  the  brilliant  radi 
ance,  of  many  lamps  somehow  concentrated 
upon  her,  —  light  seeking  light !  I  should  like 
to  have  seen  her  then. 

How  good  to  look  at,  she  was  to  that  war-worn, 
tempest-tossed,  soul-scarred  soldier!  At  first  he 
might  have  thought  her  a  vision,  but  that  her 
red  lips  parted,  and  she  breathed  his  name,  and 
her  hands  went  out  toward  him. 

"Stephen,  Stephen  Cleveland!"  she  said, — 
the  old  cry,  the  familiar  appeal. 

He  found  voice  at  last. 

"Julia!"  he  said,  hoarsely,  brokenly.  "But  I 
thought  —  General  Grant  —  " 

"He  summoned  you  to  me.  I  saw  you  this 
morning.  I  could  n't  stand  it  any  longer ;  I  went 

[374] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

to  him  to  beg  him  to  order  you  to  speak  to  me, 
but  he  said  this  was  the  better  plan,  and  —  " 

"  But  why  did  you  want  me  to  speak  to  you? " 
asked  Stephen  Cleveland,  still  brokenly,  staring 
at  her,  his  pulses  throbbing,  his  heart  beating,  his 
brain  reeling. 

"Because  I  love  you,"  she  answered,  with 
magnificent  boldness  and  courage,  throwing  out 
her  arms  as  she  spoke,  "  because  I  can't  bear  to 
be  without  you  any  longer,  because  I  want  your 
forgiveness  for  the  lie  I  told  you  —  for  every 
thing.  Oh,  can't  you  see,  don't  you  know,  that 
I  have  never  cared  for  anything,  for  anybody, 
but  for  you? " 

"  That  makes  it  worse,"  said  the  man  huskily, 
misunderstanding  still. 

"There  isn't  any  'worse'  about  it." 

"I  don't  see  how  that  can  be." 

"Listen  to  me.  Now  God  help  me,  I  can't 
help  myself,"  she  prayed.  "  I  want  you  to 
forgive — " 

"  I  '11  forgive  you  anything,  everything,  if  you 
will  just  tell  me  the  truth." 

"As  if  you  were  my  God  Himself,  I  will," 
cried  the  woman. 

[375] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"Is  it  true?" 

"Is  what  true?" 

"What  you  said  just  now,  that  you  —  love 
me?" 

She  came  closer  to  him,  she  put  her  hands 
upon  his  shoulder,  she  looked  into  his  face,  her 
eyes  swam  with  tears  and  shone  with  passion, 
her  lips  were  slightly  parted,  the  color  came  and 
went  in  her  cheeks. 

"  Look  at  me,"  she  whispered.  "  Can  a  doubt 
that  I  love  you  linger  in  your  soul  now?" 

Captain  Stephen  Cleveland  stood  there  trem 
bling  before  that  woman  as  he  had  trembled 
before  no  man,  no  line  of  rifles,  no  gaping 
cannon,  no  burnished  blades,  in  four  years  of 
awful  fighting.  He  drank  in  all  that  the 
woman's  soul  gave  to  him  in  that  moment. 
Whatever  she  might  have  been,  he  knew  now 
and  at  last  what  she  thought  then.  He  clenched 
his  hands,  he  held  them  down  as  it  were  with 
iron  bands.  Had  he  given  way  he  would  have 
swept  her  to  his  breast  and  kissed  the  life  almost 
out  of  her  trembling  lips,  only  to  have  felt  that 
white  heaving  breast  surge  once  more  against 
his  own. 

[376] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"And  can  you  forgive  me?"  he  asked  in  a 
low  whisper  —  "my  past?" 

"  Name  it  not,"  said  the  woman.  "  Whatever 
you  have  done,  whatever  you  have  been,  I  want 
you  and  only  you,  for  I  love  you." 

"  I  can  do  no  less,"  said  the  man,  and  only 
God  knew  what  strain  he  was  under,  how  hard 
it  was.  "  Whatever  has  been  is  as  if  it  were  not," 
he  continued.  "  I  have  been  punished." 

"  And  I  too,"  said  the  woman. 

"But  now  I  forgive  as  I  am  forgiven,  and  I 
love  as  I  am  loved.  Oh,  Julia,  my  wife,  my 
sweet  wife,  Julia." 

In  the  tight  clasp  of  his  arms,  in  the  close 
pressure  of  his  lips  as  he  held  her  and  as  he  kissed 
her,  he  strove  to  make  up  for  that  long  decade 
of  denial,  and  with  a  strength  and  passion  that 
matched  his  own  she  clung  to  him,  giving  back 
all  that  he  gave,  and  asking  ever  more,  more. 
She  yielded  herself  up  to  him  completely.  She 
was  his,  his  wife  in  the  sight  of  God  and  man; 
she  returned  in  full  measure  all  that  he  vouch 
safed  ;  neither  in  law  nor  love  could  she  deny  him 
anything.  In  these  delirious  moments  of  res 
toration  they  clung  together  with  kisses  as  long 

[377] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

as  their  separation,  as  sweet  as  life  or  light 
itself. 

By  and  by  he  sat  down  in  a  great  chair  and 
drew  her  almost  roughly  to  his  knee,  making  sad 
havoc  of  her  dainty  finery  —  to  which  she  gave 
no  thought  at  all  —  while  he  held  her  close  with 
one  hand  and  with  the  other  drew  from  his  coat 
two  packets  and  laid  them  on  a  table  at  hand. 

"  After  this  hour,"  he  began,  "  we  shall  not 
refer  to  the  past;  indeed,  I  would  not  mention  it 
now,  but  —  " 

"  Stephen,"  interrupted  the  woman  quickly, 
"  there  is  something  about  that  past  I  must  tell 
you,  that  I  have  lived  to  tell  you." 

"But  I  don't  want  to  hear  it,"  returned  her 
husband.  "Whatever  it  was,  I  have  forgiven, 
as  I  want  forgiveness.  I  want  to  forget,  as  I 
want  you  to  forget." 

She  strove  to  kiss  away  the  cloud  upon  his 
face  as  he  said  these  brave  but  also  impossible 
words. 

"And  that  you  have  taken  this  course,"  she 
said  earnestly,  "  proves  your  manhood.  It  makes 
me  prouder  of  you  than  ever,  and  it  makes  my 
own  forgiveness  seem  a  trifle.  But,  Stephen, 

[378] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

you  must  believe  me  now."  She  took  his  hand 
and  laid  it  upon  her  heart.  "  Feel  it  beat  for  you, 
truly  as  it  has  ever  beaten.  I  am  not  going  to 
hurt  you,"  she  went  on  quickly,  "  I  am  going 
to  bless  you,  I  think,  and  I  must  speak.'* 

"  Don't,"  he  pleaded. 

"  You  will  thank  me  for  it." 

"  I  only  want  you  now,  and  the  future  — " 

"  Stephen  Cleveland,"  said  the  woman  with 
desperate  determination,  "if  you  do  not  let  me 
speak,  and  be  silent  that  you  may  hear,  although 
I  go  to  my  death  I  leave  you  this  moment." 

She  made  a  move  as  if  to  rise  and  drew  herself 
away. 

"Anything  rather  than  that!  I  will  listen," 
said  the  man,  drawing  her  close  again.  "  Speak 
on." 

"  I  did  lie  to  you  once,"  said  Julia. 

She  slipped  her  arm  around  his  neck  and  laid 
her  head  upon  his  shoulder.  She  spoke  in  low 
whispers,  her  warm  breath  playing  across  his 
brown  and  burning  cheek. 

"I  know,"  said  the  man,  "and  I  have  for 
given  you." 

"But  what  you  thought  was  a  lie,"  said  the 
[379] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

woman,  "was  the  truth,  and  what  you  thought 
was  the  truth  was  a  lie." 

"  I  don't  understand,"  he  cried  in  amazement 
almost  too  great  for  expression. 

"  Hampton  Ellison  —  "  she  could  feel  her  hus 
band  wince  as  she  spoke  the  name  —  "did  love 
me,  as  I  told  you ;  but  I  never  gave  him  a  thought. 
He  did  ask  me  to  be  his  wife,  —  I  scarcely  even 
considered  his  proposal.  He  was  nothing  to  me, 
nothing." 

"But  you  said  —  " 

"  I  did  not  say,  but  I  allowed  you  to  do  so. 
That  was  the  lie;  I  wanted  to  punish  you,  I  let 
you  think  what  you  pleased." 

"Julia,  do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  it  is  not 
true;  that  you  did  not  give  yourself  to  Ellison; 
that  you  —  " 

"  I  mean  just  that,"  answered  the  woman.  "  I 
am  as  much  yours,  body  and  soul,  as  I  ever  was. 
I  never  have  been  any  one's  but  yours,  I  never 
could  be." 

Stephen  Cleveland  lifted  her  from  his  knee, 
he  rose  from  his  chair,  he  swung  her  about  until 
she  faced  the  light,  he  looked  at  her,  he  looked 
into  her  face,  he  looked  into  her  eyes,  he  looked 

[380] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

into  her  soul;  what  he  saw  there  gave  him  ex 
quisite  pleasure  and  satisfaction,  for  she  bore  his 
gaze  unflinchingly.  He  had  been  blind  before, 
but  now  his  eyes  were  opened.  He  saw  and  be 
lieved  at  last. 

"Oh  Julia,  Julia,  thank  God,  thank  God," 
he  cried. 

Catching  her  again  in  his  arms  he  lifted  her  as 
if  she  had  been  a  child,  and  held  her  up  a  mo 
ment  and  then  let  her  down  gently  to  the  level 
of  his  heart.  Her  arms  were  about  him  once 
again. 

"And  do  you  believe  me  at  last?"  she  asked, 
after  a  while  when  speech  was  possible  to  them 
again. 

"Yes,"  said  the  man.  "I  was  a  fool;  I  ought 
to  have  believed  you  against  your  own  words, 
against  everything.  I  ought  to  have  known  that 
truth  and  honor  and  absolute  devotion  were  in 
your  heart,  but  I  measured  you  by  myself  and 
found  you  wanting." 

"  No  more  of  that,"  said  the  woman,  tenderly 
laying  her  hand  on  his  lips.  "  Now  tell  me  about 
Ellison.  He  died  in  an  encounter  with  your 
command,  I  read." 

[381] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"But  not  by  my  hand,"  protested  Stephen 
Cleveland,  earnestly. 

"  Thank  God  for  that,"  she  said  soberly,  "  for 
he  was  my  friend  in  trouble." 

"  And  he  loved  you,  Julia, —  how  could  he  help 
it?"  he  said,  generously. 

"  I  know,  poor  fellow,"  said  the  woman  softly. 

"  And  he  died  saying  so.  We  met  in  the  heart 
of  the  conflict.  I  disarmed  him,  his  horse 
stumbled,  my  blade  was  at  his  throat;  but  some 
thing  stayed  my  hand,  I  could  not  kill  him.  In 
spite  of  me  another  delivered  the  fatal  blow.  I 
took  him  back  to  our  lines  and  asked  him  about 
you.  He  said  he  loved  you,  and  then  he  died. 
We  sent  his  body  back  into  his  own  line  under  a 
flag.  Somehow,  I  could  not  hate  him  then. 
From  the  pocket  of  his  coat  I  took  this  packet; 
as  you  see,  it  is  addressed  to  you  — "  he  lifted 
the  little  packet  from  the  table  where  he  had  laid 
it  a  few  moments  since  —  "and  I  deliver  it  into 
your  hands." 

'Will  you  read  it?"  asked  woman,  tearing 
it  open  and  tendering  it  to  him. 

"It  is  not  meant  for  me,  but  for  you,"  said 
Stephen  Cleveland,  gravely  refusing  it. 

[382] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"  And  that  other  packet? " 

"It  is  the  one  you  sent  me  in  a  letter.  Oh, 
those  cold  letters!  If  there  had  been  one  word 
of  love  —  " 

"  I  did  n't  dare,"  returned  the  wife,  kissing  him 
again. 

She  stepped  to  the  table,  reached  for  her  own 
packet,  tore  it  open,  and  handed  it  to  him. 

"  Will  you  read  this  one  now? " 

"  What  says  it? "  asked  the  man. 

"  It  tells  you  just  what  I  have  told  you.  I 
couldn't  bear  to  have  you  die  not  believing  in 
me.  I  thought  you  would  read  it  then,  and  it 
might  give  you  a  moment's  happiness  to  know 
that  I  had  been  true." 

Stephen  Cleveland  took  the  packet,  kissed  it, 
and  laid  it  in  the  grate,  where  a  low  fire  was 
burning. 

"  No  written  words  can  supplement  what  you 
have  said.  I  need  nothing  more." 

"And  here,"  she  continued,  handing  him  an 
other  envelope  which  she  took  from  the  mantel, 
where  she  had  placed  it  before  he  came,  "is  a 
letter  from  old  Foresman." 

"  Where  is  he?  —  how  is  he?  " 
[383] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

"  He  died  last  week,  peaceful  and  happy,  save 
for  our  estrangement;  and  before  he  died  he 
scrawled  this." 

"Have  you  read  it?" 

'Yes,"  said  the  woman. 

"And  what  is  it?" 

"  Read  it  yourself." 

"No,  tell  me." 

"It  is  an  assurance  that  of  his  own  knowl 
edge  he  knows  that  I  was  guilty  of  an  untruth 
when  I  allowed  you  to  cherish  your  belief.  He 
begs  you  to  hear  me  and  believe  me  and  love 
me  now." 

"  Brave,  true-hearted  old  sailor,"  said  Stephen 
Cleveland  tremulously.  "  Yet  this  letter  goes  to 
the  fire  with  the  others.  I  will  take  nothing  but 
your  word,  my  wife." 

"And  shall  I?"  asked  Julia  tremulously,  ex 
tending  her  letter  from  Hampton  Ellison  toward 
the  blaze. 

"No,"  said  Stephen  Cleveland  quickly,  "that 
you  must  read." 

"Now?" 

"  Immediately." 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  take  one  thought  away 
[384] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

from  you  for  a  moment  now,"  pleaded  the 
woman,  smiling  adorably  into  his  face. 

"  I  can  spare  a  few  moments  to  the  dead,  and 
I  shall  hold  you  close  while  you  read.  I  'm  never 
going  to  let  go  of  you  again." 

It  was  a  short  letter  and  soon  read,  just  an 
assurance  that  his  dying  words  had  confirmed, 
that  he  had  loved  her,  that  he  always  would  love 
her,  that  he  had  lived  to  love  her,  and  that  he 
would  die  loving  her;  and  as  he  had  no  kith  or 
kin  he  told  of  a  will  in  which  he  gave  her  what 
ever  was  left  of  his  share  of  the  Cleveland- 
Ellison  Mine.  The  boatswain,  by  the  way,  had 
left  his  share  to  his  old  commander.  Ellison's 
letter  contained  a  natural  expression  of  his  dis 
appointment  and  regret  that  she  still  cherished 
her  husband  and  refused  his  proffered  hand. 
When  she  had  finished  she  looked  up  at  him  and 
placed  the  letter  in  his  hand. 

"  This,"  she  said,  "  you  too  must  read." 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  I  read  nothing." 

"  Read  this  letter  for  my  sake,  for  my  peace 
of  mind.  Won't  you  read  just  this  much?" 

She  pointed  to  the  one  paragraph,  that  ex- 
[385] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

culpated  her.  She  laid  her  hand  upon  his  head, 
that  stubborn,  unbending  head  of  his,  and  forced 
it  gently  down  until  his  eyes  took  in  the  purport 
of  the  few  brief  lines. 

"I  didn't  need  it,"  he  protested. 

"I  know  you  did  not,"  was  the  answer,  "but 
I  wanted  you  to  see  it  before  I  put  it  away 
forever." 

She  laid  the  letter  with  the  others  on  the  live 
coals,  and  together  they  watched  it  burn  away, 
and  then  — 

O  soldier  of  the  Southland,  sleeping  under  the 
trees  on  that  blood-bought  field  where  thou  laidst 
down  thy  life  for  that  which  thou  deemedst  best, 
couldst  thou  know  that  thy  last  words  were  com 
mitted  to  the  fire  by  the  woman  thou  lovedst, 
closely  clasped  in  another's  arms? 

O  little  Felicity,  where  thou  too  sleepest  on  the 
heaven-kissing  hill  of  the  far-off  island,  couldst 
thou  believe  that  this  man  and  this  woman  who 
stood  breast  to  breast,  lips  to  lips,  remembered 
thee  no  longer? 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  the  two  lovers 
separated,  Stephen  Cleveland  opened  it,  and 

[386] 


AS  THE  SPARKS  FLY  UPWARD 

there  stood  the  staff-officer  who  had  brought  him 
up  the  stairs. 

"  General  Grant's  compliments  to  your  wife, 
sir,  and  could  you  receive  him?" 

The  little  General  must  have  been  very  con 
fident  of  the  issue  of  this  strategy,  and  of  the 
tactics  of  Julia  Cleveland,  for  he  was  close  be 
hind  his  messenger.  He  heard  Stephen  Cleve 
land's  reply,  and  signing  the  staff-officer  to  wait, 
he  entered  the  room  and  closed  the  door.  He 
looked  keenly  from  one  to  the  other,  from  the 
fair  face,  so  nobly  exultant,  of  the  woman,  to  the 
sterner  countenance  of  the  soldier,  from  which 
all  grimness  had  somehow  been  forever  dispelled. 

"All  is  well?"  he  asked  briefly. 

The  woman  stepped  to  the  man's  side,  the 
man's  arm  went  around  her  waist,  her  hand 
slipped  across  his  shoulders. 

'  Yes,  General,"  she  said  smiling,  "  all  is  well." 

The  little  General  brought  his  heels  together 
suddenly,  he  lifted  his  right  hand  in  salute,  in 
another  moment  he  turned  sharply,  and  without 
another  word  left  the  room,  wherein  at  last  all 
was  well. 

FINIS 


L 


\  i 


^UtBRARY 


53rtMJNIVER% 


